


With The Sun's Love

by Diamond_Raven



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Brain Damage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Healing, Homelessness, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Memory Loss, Minor Religious Themes, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Seizures, Speech Disorders, Speech impediment, Steve Rogers Centric, Touch-Starved, Traumatic Brain Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 142,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22133278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diamond_Raven/pseuds/Diamond_Raven
Summary: Finding Bucky living on the street and suffering from seizures and memory problems after TWS, Steve is willing to do anything to help save Bucky’s life, even if it means putting his own life on hold. But as Bucky slowly recovers, Steve is forced to realize that his sacrifice won’t help either of them in the long run.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 703
Kudos: 308





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The title comes from Bette Midler's song 'The Rose', specifically this part: 'Just remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snow, lies the seed that with the sun's love in the spring becomes the rose.'
> 
> 2\. I want to thank Royal_Ermine whose assistance with this fic was wonderful. Thank you, my friend!
> 
> 3\. I've tagged all the major themes but I don't provide trigger warnings for minor events. Feel free to email me if you'd like to ask whether specific things take place in this story.

The search for Bucky is exhausting. Steve knows Sam only accompanies him because he thinks Steve will fall asleep while driving or he’ll just disappear and Sam will never hear from him again. And when Sam says ‘disappear’, his tone makes it clear that he thinks Steve may chose a very permanent method. Steve can’t deny that both options are highly likely to occur, so he’s silently grateful for Sam’s company.

But because Sam—unlike Steve—has a job and a family and a life, they only search for a month at a time and then spend a few weeks back in DC.

Now that SHIELD is gone, Steve doesn’t even have a job to fall back on. He didn’t have a place to live after he’d gotten out of the hospital, since his old apartment had been compromised by Hydra and he’d stayed with Sam for a few days before going to stay at a hotel. He hadn’t feel comfortable being Sam’s guest—regardless of how badly Sam had tried making him feel at home—and he hated the idea of searching for an apartment.

It felt like a betrayal to Bucky to start searching for his own apartment and getting furniture. How can he focus on mundane things like deciding if he likes the amount of sunlight in a living room and picking what kind of couch he wants, when Bucky is out there somewhere, probably hurt, confused and starving?

Bucky had seemed so lost during their fight on the heli-carrier. When he’d gotten stuck underneath that heavy piece of metal, he’d looked terrified. Granted, it had been a scary situation, but Bucky’s fear had been completely at odds with the blank-faced robotic demeanour Steve had seen while Bucky had been standing on the bridge. Then Bucky had completely lost control when he’d attacked Steve right before that chunk of metal had come down and taken Steve into the Potomac River below.

Bucky had looked just as confused during their fight on the highway after Steve had ripped his mask off and called him by his name. He’d looked almost child-like. It’s a look Steve hadn’t seen on his face since Bucky was a young boy and his ma had to explain to Bucky why Steve had to miss school yet again due to another bout of illness. Complete bewilderment.

Seeing Bucky look so scared and confused had made Steve frantic, but once he’d woken up in the hospital and realized that Bucky was nowhere to be found, he’d gotten even more anxious over Bucky’s well-being. What if Bucky doesn’t remember anything about himself? What if he follows some Hydra protocol and hurts himself, or worse? What if he decides to take his confusion and fear out on others around him?

He and Sam had found the bank vault where Bucky had been kept, and along with the cryo-tube and the mind-wipe chair, they’d found a lot of other medical tools and gadgets that had been used on Bucky. Hydra had been feeding him through feeding tubes which means that Bucky may be having problems feeding himself and his body may be having problems digesting normal food properly.

Sam had tried gently pointing out that there’s a chance that Bucky was already dead. While the Winter Soldier had been a deadly and very competent assassin, he’d always had handlers to see to his daily needs. Allowing Bucky the independence to take care of himself had probably not been permitted in order to foster Bucky’s dependence on Hydra. Now that he’s lost access to that care, there’s no telling how or even if Bucky is still alive.

But Steve refuses to give up. During the weeks when they’re in DC, Steve lives in his hotel room and researches where they’ll go next. Once Sam says he’s ready, off they go again. Steve hates the downtime between their searches, but it’s not that bad. Living in the hotel is actually better than living in his own apartment had been.

Thankfully, SHIELD had found and paid for his previous apartment and all of his bills, and Steve had mostly eaten in the SHIELD cafeteria. Today’s grocery stores are too overwhelming and there are too many food options. On the other hand, the one and only time when Steve had cooked one of simple meals he’d learned how to prepare from his ma, he’d become overwhelmed with such grief that he had to go into his bedroom until he’d finally managed to call Sam and beg him to get rid of the food in the kitchen.

Living in the hotel works out very well. The front desk has his credit card on file and everything he wants gets paid through that. He can order room service every single day and the people at the front desk are really nice and have helped him identify some TV channels that he likes to watch so he doesn’t get overwhelming by what’s apparently called ‘channel surfing’.

Sam has been gently coaxing him to consider going to therapy, find a hobby or at least be willing to work with a life coach who can teach him how to go shopping or pay for his own bills, but Steve isn’t ready for any of that.

He knows he’s stuck in a rut. No matter how much he wants to, he can’t make time move backwards. He won’t suddenly wake up in 1935. But stepping into the 21st century and officially re-joining the stream of society isn’t something he’s ready for yet. Maybe he’ll never be ready for it, not without having Bucky by his side. Or at least—not without knowing if Bucky is alive or dead.

It doesn’t feel right to even consider moving forward with his life while Bucky is out there suffering. Sam has gently pointed out that Steve is ‘using Bucky as a crutch’, which had really annoyed Steve and that had led to the biggest fight he and Sam had ever had. Wanting to make sure that Bucky isn’t suffering in a hole somewhere isn’t ‘a crutch’!

And it’s not as if this situation will permanently hold Steve back from accepting his 21st century existence. He’ll do all the things that Sam wants him to do, but not right now. He’s not ready and he’s busy looking for Bucky.

Besides, he’s been taking some of Sam’s advice. Like right now: he’s walking around the downtown core, doing a minimum 3 block radius around his hotel, as per Sam’s orders. Sam says it’s important that he gets out of the hotel and spends time around people, even if he doesn’t feel like interacting with them. He’s even zig-zagging between blocks today, which is going way beyond the scope of the original order.

Steve always pulls his hoodie over his head and keeps his sunglasses on so he doesn’t have to deal with any Captain America fans. If he’s recognized, then he’ll stop for pictures and autographs, but he prefers to stay hidden.

Keeping his head tilted down gives him a good view of who he’s passing on the sidewalks—which is the only reason his attention is caught by the bright glint of sunlight reflecting off something metallic near the ground.

Blinking and glancing over to see what the object is, Steve notices there’s a homeless man sitting on the sidewalk. Wearing a dirty jacket, the man’s leaning against the front window of a store with his knees pulled up to his chest. Steve can barely tell it’s a man since his face is buried behind his knees, a dirty sweater hood is pulled over his head and his right hand is clutching the back of his neck, but the broadness of his shoulders seem to indicate he’s male.

But Steve’s attention is caught by the man’s left arm, which is flopped out next to him as if it’s not even attached to his body. The metallic glint which had attracted Steve’s attention is coming off a metal hand.

A metal…hand.

Freezing, Steve stands there, gaping at it. He takes a few steps closer, sure that he’s not seeing things right. Maybe the sun is reflecting off a watch or jewelry? He can see the silver metal of the hand…but it’s not possible…

…

It’s just…not possible.

But when he’s standing above the man, staring down at the hand, he knows his initial assessment was right. That’s a silver, metal hand and there’s only one person on earth who has a metal hand like that.

Steve’s heart starts hammering and he can barely breathe. It feels like he’s about to have an asthma attack. “Bucky?” he breathes out, his voice barely above a whisper.

The man doesn’t move and makes no indication that he’d heard Steve.

Ignoring the people walking past him, Steve crouches down in front of him, careful not to touch him while he ignores the stench of urine and body odor that are clinging to the man. Clearing his throat and trying to calm his racing heart, Steve tries again. “Bucky? Is that you?”

Still no response. Is he sleeping?

Steve’s first instinct is to touch him. That’s probably not a good idea, but he has to know. Taking off his sunglasses, he shoves his hood off so he’s more recognizable and shuffles back a bit, just in case the man decides to swing with his metal arm. Carefully reaching out, Steve gently touches the man’s knee.

The reaction is immediate. The man’s head snaps up and Bucky is staring Steve right in the face—and the metal arm is swinging for Steve’s head.

The swing was pure instinct, but it’s clear that Bucky’s weak. The arm does a swipe rather than a swing and his hand stays open instead of clenching into a solid fist. The arm bangs into Bucky’s knees and it flops back to the ground with a metallic clang.

Steve only had to lean back a bit to avoid the weak swing, but his eyes are glued to Bucky’s face. Steve can’t breathe and he’s shaking. He wants to scream and cry and his heart is thudding so loudly he’s sure that everybody can hear it. After years of mourning, after months of searching, Bucky’s sitting right here in front of him. He’s alive, he’s not under Hydra control and…he’s _alive!_

Steve struggles to keep his hands from grabbing Bucky and pulling him into his arms. Tears brim his eyes and Steve blinks them back with difficulty. “Buck? Do you know who I am?”

Despite his shock, Steve can tell Bucky isn’t doing well. He’s very pale, his face is thinner than when Steve had last seen him, his long dark hair is a filthy mess and a thick, dirty beard covers his face.

And he stinks. He really stinks. He smells like urine and the body odor of somebody who’s been living and sweating in his clothes and hasn’t bathed in a while. While Steve used to be accustomed to that stench—heating buckets of water for a bath was so time consuming and used up so much precious firewood that Bucky and him used to bathe once a month—it’s much more noticeable these days, when most people bathe regularly and smell better.

The smell is off-putting, but it’s Bucky’s eyes that are most worrisome. He’s trying to glare, but he’s too weak to look threatening. As Steve keeps staring at him, Bucky’s gaze slowly slides away from him and stares vacantly at a spot over Steve’s shoulder. He doesn’t look interested in whatever he’s looking at but it’s as if his eyes have simply drifted to that spot and he’s too weak to move them or he doesn’t care that he’s looking at nothing.

Bucky’s alive, but it almost looks like there’s nothing going on in his mind. The last time Steve had seen this vacant look in somebody’s eyes was during the war. Abruptly, Steve remembers what Bucky would always say:

“ _All the lights are on, but there ain’t nobody home.”_

And that makes Steve’s excitement turn to dread and he’s blinking back tears for a different reason. “Buck? Can you hear me?”

Bucky keeps staring off into the distance, giving no indication that he heard Steve or understood him.

Steve is debating calling Sam or maybe a hospital, when Bucky suddenly frowns. “It’ll be—it’ll be at noon when it—” he mumbles, then he breaks off and goes silent.

Abruptly, Bucky blinks, the vacant stare fades from his gaze and he stares Steve right in the face, seeming to notice him for the first time. Then Bucky starts laughing weakly and mumbles: “That dumb goof. He—he gonna be a gold star in his—in his ma’s window soon.”

Steve blinks. The words might seem like nonsense to anybody else, but Steve knows exactly what Bucky’s talking about. The phrase ‘becoming a gold star in ma’s window’ had been a kind way of saying somebody had been killed in action back during the war. It was wording that soldiers would toss around all the time, and Bucky would often say it about the young 18 year olds who were fresh off the boat. The snarky wisecracking would always be followed by Bucky taking the young ones under his wing and teaching them how to keep themselves safe until the Howling Commandos had to leave for another mission.

While Steve may have heard Bucky say this phrase a hundred times, he doesn’t know why Bucky’s saying it now. “Who’s the dumb goof? Hmm? You remembering somebody?”

Bucky had kept chuckling weakly to himself, but at Steve’s question, he abruptly stops laughing and glares at Steve. “Go away.”

Growing desperate, Steve decides to be direct. “I’m Steve. I’m your friend, remember?”

Bucky keeps glaring at him and flaps his right hand at him. The metal arm is still on the ground, in the exact position it had fallen after Bucky’s weak swing. “Go ‘way. Go ‘way. Go—”

Abruptly, he stops speaking again, his glare fades to leave a vacant look on his face and his head drops back down against his knees.

Steve gapes at him. He has no idea what to do. Two things are certain: Steve needs help and he’s also not letting Bucky out of his sight. If Bucky doesn’t want Steve speaking to him, that’s fine. But he’s not letting him disappear again.

Slowly standing up, Steve backs away and sits against the same store front, next to an empty pack of cigarettes and a dirty paper cup. Reaching into his pocket, Steve discreetly turns his phone off. He doesn’t want it going off and upsetting Bucky.

Glancing around, Steve realizes he’s getting a few weird looks from people passing by who may or may not recognize him. Or maybe they’re wondering why he’s sitting on the street when he looks like he’s well-off. Pulling his hood back up, he debates putting his sunglasses back on, but once the hood is up, it’s like somebody flipped a switch.

Nobody looks at him anymore. Nobody even glances at him. In fact, most of the people passing by deliberately keep their gazes focused on the parked cars next to them, rather than Steve or Bucky. Parents with small children even pull them closer to the parked cars as they walk past.

It reminds Steve of the few times he and Bucky had to spend nights on the street when they’d been evicted and they hadn’t found a new place to live right away. They’d usually try finding a place that offered some protection, like an abandoned building or bushes in a park, but sometimes they had no choice but to stay in the doorways of closed stores. All Steve remembers from those nights was being cold and miserable as they’d curl up together with their little bags of meagre possessions. They never slept much during those nights and they’d kept themselves distracted by telling stories.

The next morning, Bucky would always go off to find work while Steve would go looking for a new place to live and scrounge for food. Begging for money on the street was a last resort because it often didn’t yield anything. He’d spend all day sitting on the sidewalk, cold and hungry and he’d end up with maybe 10 cents to show for it, which was barely enough to buy a small loaf of bread and two apples.

Trying to find a job was just as useless. The payoff could be greater, but he also risked days of wasted time. Bucky had a much higher chance of finding paying work quickly, so it was Steve’s responsibility to find food and a place for them to live. When things were stable, that was when Steve would look for steady work too but until then, he had other priorities.

Rather than doing things that had a high risk of failure—like asking shops if they had food to spare—he’d realized long ago that his time was better spent rummaging through the trash of restaurants and stores, and going into bars to look for loose change that had been dropped by drunk patrons. If that failed, he’d focus on trying to make money by sketching portraits down by the river, or stealing things from abandoned—or unsupervised—buildings and selling them.

Stealing from stores was his next option but that came with a much higher risk. Spending the night in jail was something Steve had always managed to avoid, but Bucky had been caught several times and he’d made it clear that Steve would probably not survive the night locked up. But asking people to give him their spare change rarely worked well. People didn’t have a lot of spare change anyway, and if they did, they didn’t want to give it to Steve without getting anything in return.

From time to time, they’d been desperate enough for money that Bucky had to resort to…more degrading methods to make money. But that was only if they were in a real bind, like if Steve was in the hospital and the staff refused to treat him unless some of his overdue bills were paid off first.

As Steve sits on the sidewalk, he wonders if Bucky remembers any of that. He certainly doesn’t look like he’s been taking care of himself, and Bucky Barnes would be the first to get annoyed with himself for spending all day sitting on his butt on the sidewalk when he should be spending his time finding food, money and a place to sleep.

But remembering the vacant look on Bucky’s face and how weak he seems, Steve thinks that maybe he’s not capable of doing those things. It makes his heart ache that he hadn’t found Bucky sooner.

Glancing at Bucky’s still figure, Steve tries to come up with a plan. One thing’s for sure: he’s not leaving him. There’s no telling if Bucky will stay in the same spot and he doesn’t seem inclined to communicate with him, so Steve decides to stay where he is for now and see what Bucky does. Maybe he’s just napping and he does have a place to stay? In any case, Steve will call Sam for help in a few hours.

He spends an hour watching the people who rush past them, while Bucky barely moves. His metal arm stays flopped on the ground and he stays hunched over, his face buried behind his knees.

Finally, something changes. A man walks past Steve and while that wouldn’t have normally attracted his attention, he can tell by his dirty, worn clothes and the stench that clings to him that he might be homeless too. He’s wearing a hooded sweater that’s pulled over his head and he seems to have a slim build, so Steve isn’t actually sure if it is a man.

But all of his thoughts grind to a halt when the man crouches in front of Bucky. Fear and anger rush through Steve; the need to protect Bucky making his heart race. “Hey! What are you doing?” Scrambling up, Steve lunges for the man, grabs his shoulder—

—and then he’s got a metal hand clamped around his throat, cutting off his air and he’s staring into Bucky’s rage-filled eyes. Steve’s so shocked that his first reaction is to hit the metal arm, which has no effect.

“Shit! Oh, my God! Buck, let go of him! Let go! It’s okay!” The man shouts out and a frail, dirty hand grabs Bucky’s metal arm.

Bucky transfers his glare to the other man, whose face is still hidden from Steve’s view by his hoodie.

“Buck, let go. Please. You can’t do this in front of so many people, man.”

As Steve’s vision starts to blur and his lungs scream for air, he desperately hopes Bucky will listen to his unlikely savoir. The thought of having to fight Bucky makes his heart ache and Steve has the same internal debate that he’d had on the heli-carrier—should be defend himself, save his own life and risk hurting Bucky, or should he let Bucky do what he’s doing?

Thankfully, the choice is taken out of his hands when the tight clamp around his throat eases and Bucky releases him. Gulping for air and coughing, Steve brings his hand to his aching throat.

But just because Bucky has released him, doesn’t mean he’s any more fond of Steve than he was while he was trying to strangle him. “Go away!” he snarls. “Go ‘way, go ‘way, go ‘way!”

Coughing and still struggling to get breath back into his lungs, Steve pushes himself up and stumbles a few feet back to his spot on the sidewalk. Collapsing, Steve takes a few minutes to calm down as he gently massages his throat.

That’s when he notices a few people had stopped to gawk at what had taken place. They’re carefully keeping their distance and most of them have their phones out, their eyes huge as they wait for Steve’s next move.

Well, Steve isn’t going to give them a show. He’s shaking from shock and he doesn’t dare look over at Bucky for fear of setting him off again. A million thoughts are racing through his head. He wants to explain himself to Bucky; to tell him that he was only trying to protect him and he hadn’t realized this person was his friend.

Speaking of the friend, that’s when Steve remembers the man had called Bucky ‘Buck’. On the one hand, Steve is glad that Bucky apparently remembers the abbreviation of his own nickname well enough to teach it to a stranger…

…but it fills Steve with irrational jealousy when he thinks about some random stranger being permitted to call Bucky ‘Buck’, while Bucky doesn’t even want Steve even speaking to him. There’s no universe where that should be the reality.

The stranger and Bucky are talking and Steve focuses on eaves-dropping.

“Thanks for protecting me, Buck. You’re a real sweet peach.”

Steve frowns at the odd word choice. Calling somebody a peach was a common expression back in their day—meaning, his and Bucky’s days—but the word ‘sweet’ isn’t needed in there. Nobody would say that. That’s the point of calling somebody a peach: the sweet part’s implied. Nobody who’s familiar with that phrase would use it like that. Maybe the phrase is making a comeback these days? And it’s been changed?

But all of Steve’s mental puzzling grinds to a halt when he hears Bucky’s response.

“I—I always gotta protect—gotta protect you, Stevie. That’s what I do. That’s—that’s what I do. It’s real important.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I—I always gotta protect—gotta protect you, Stevie. That’s what I do. That’s—that’s what I do. It’s real important.”

“I know, Buck. That’s your job and you’re doing it really well. I’m very proud of you.”

Steve’s breath catches and his head jerks over to stare at the stranger and Bucky. Blinking, Steve shakes his head and thinks that maybe the choke-hold had messed with his hearing? There’s no way Bucky called this stranger ‘Stevie’!

But when he’s looking at them, he notices that Bucky’s entire demeanour has changed. He looks relaxed and he’s smiling at the stranger, who has pulled off his hoodie and is smiling back at Bucky.

The first thing that catches Steve’s attention is that the guy looks sick. He’s pale, way too thin and his blond hair is filthy. From his half-lidded eyes, Steve can tell he’s exhausted. But except for looking sickly, he looks nothing like Steve—even before the serum. Well, he’s certainly thin enough and he does have blue eyes and blond hair, but there isn’t any other resemblance. Why on earth does Bucky think this is Steve?! And why the hell is this man pretending to be him?!

The stranger has put a dirty hand onto Bucky’s knee. Rather than smacking the hand away, Bucky grabs it with his right hand and squeezes it.

“You’re my—you’re my—” Bucky frowns and stops talking, staring off into the distance.

The stranger brings his other hand to squeeze their joined hands. “I’m your Stevie. Remember?”

Bucky looks back at him and stares at him with confusion. “It ain’t right that Ned didn’t wanna let us play with him, was it?”

For a moment, the huge problem of this stranger impersonating him is pushed to the side, because once again, Steve knows exactly what Bucky’s talking about. He must be reliving a memory, but this one is from much earlier than the war.

Ned had been one of their enemy-friends who had lived in their neighborhood. As was always the case with young boys, some days they’d all play together and get along, and other days Ned would decide he didn’t want to play with a sickly, weak Irish runt like Steve. When it came to playing really important games against boys in other neighborhoods, Ned would sometimes agree to let Steve play, purely so he could get Bucky on his team too. But on most days, Ned wouldn’t let them play due to Steve being a liability. Naturally, that meant that Bucky would also refuse to play, even though technically he hadn’t been banned.

But the stranger doesn’t know any of this. He gives Bucky’s knee a rough shake. “Focus! We’ve talked about this. When we have a conversation, you have to pay attention to me and answer me, remember?”

There’s something about his tone that Steve really doesn’t like. His blood is slowly heating up, but he stays still. He still doesn’t understand what’s going on and he needs to gather more intel before he can help Bucky. He can’t risk making the situation worse. If Bucky decides that Steve is too annoying to deal with, he might disappear with the stranger while Steve has his back turned for a second, and he can’t risk that.

Bucky looks confused and a bit upset at the knee shaking. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. Then he abruptly sits up straight and looks off into the distance. “I will comply.”

The stranger nods. “Good. That’s good. Now, who am I? What’s my name?”

Bucky blinks at him. “You’re—you’re Stevie.”

“I’m your Stevie, right?”

Bucky nods frantically. “Yeah. You’re my—you’re my Stevie. And I take care of you.”

Fake-Steve grins at Bucky. “Yes, you do. That’s your job, isn’t it?”

Bucky’s nodding becomes even more frantic and he’s smiling happily.

And Steve can barely breathe. He wants to rip Fake-Steve away from Bucky and throw him into traffic, and maybe follow him and stomp him into a pancake before the cars can do it for him. The rage that’s been slowly heating in his blood is a full-blown inferno now and he clenches his fists together and tries to calm himself down.

This is crazy! Up to now, Steve’s only been annoyed at the stranger pretending to be him and confusing Bucky. But now it’s clear that the man is actively manipulating Bucky. Bucky’s sick, he needs help and this disgusting stranger has no right to touch him, never mind manipulate him and take advantage of him!

But what’s Steve supposed to do? He could try to overpower both of them and hold them until…until what? Bucky hates him and doesn’t trust him and he believes Fake-Steve is really Steve, so he’ll probably do whatever he can to return to him. Is Steve supposed to keep Bucky locked up until he’s healthy? Would it be acceptable to keep Bucky locked up against his will if Steve knows that’s what’s best for him? This entire situation is crazy and Steve’s frantic thoughts circle around and around. He needs Sam’s help. Reaching for his phone in his jacket, he freezes when Fake-Steve’s voice suddenly rises.

“What do you mean you lost it?! I told you to watch it carefully!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Bucky mumbles, ducking his head back behind his knees.

“No! Don’t put your head down! Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

The order makes Bucky’s head snap back up and he’s staring at Fake-Steve, looking very upset. Fake-Steve is looking around and he darts up and snatches the empty paper cup that’s lying close to Steve. He brandishes it in Bucky’s face. “It was right there! You just didn’t pay attention and it got knocked over. So how much money did you get today? Huh? How much money’s in here?”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow and he reaches out a shaking hand, takes the cup and peers into it, looking hopeful. But his face falls as soon as he sees that it’s empty. “I musta drunk all of it, Stevie. I’m sorry.” Then Bucky suddenly smiles brightly. “I think Jones has some of his coffee ration left! You should ask him! Gabe’s a good egg; he’ll share his coffee.”

Fake-Steve smacks Bucky’s knee hard and Steve’s anger burns even hotter and he barely restrains himself from going over there and ripping Fake-Steve’s hand off.

“You’re not focusing! This cup is for making money, remember?” Fake-Steve snatches the cup from Bucky and shakes it in Bucky’s face, who bites his lip and blinks, looking confused.

Sighing softly, Fake-Steve sets the cup down on the sidewalk, a foot away from them. He takes a deep breath and visibly tries to calm down. He gives Bucky a very strained smile, but it’s clear he’s still angry. “That’s where it’s supposed to stay, remember? So people can put money into it. Why do we need money? Why?”

“Because…because…because Stevie needs medicine.”

Fake-Steve smiles at him. “Yeah. And what happens if I don’t get medicine?”

Bucky looks scared. “You get sick. And that’s no good.”

“No, that’s scary, isn’t it? So the cup has to stay where it is and you have to guard it all day. You weren’t doing your job today.”

Bucky’s face falls and he looks close to tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Fake-Steve signs. “That’s okay. You know what that means, though. You have to get my medicine the hard way.”

Bucky nods, looking upset. “Yeah.” Then Bucky’s face clears and he looks determined. “I’ll go right now. I’ll get you medicine, Stevie.”

Steve’s heart leaps into his throat. Has this stranger been forcing Bucky to get him money or his ‘medicine’ through…drastic means? The same means that Bucky had turned to out of desperation when they’d needed money for Steve’s medical bills? Maybe Bucky had remembered doing that and he’d been the one to suggest it?!

Just the thought of it makes Steve feel sick. But then he sternly reminds himself that he’s here now and he’s going to put a stop to all of this. He’ll have to take things one step at a time, but there’s no way he’s letting Bucky prostitute himself for Fake-Steve’s benefit. Not only does Steve think Bucky’s not capable of making good decisions for himself, but everything about this situation is wrong. Bucky shouldn’t be doing anything for this stranger who’s clearly manipulating him.

In any case, Steve won’t let it happen. He’ll give Bucky the cash that’s sitting in his wallet. Sam always encourages Steve to carry some cash, in the hopes that Steve will go into a store and feel more comfortable buying something if he has a familiar way of paying for it. That hasn’t happened yet, but the money can serve a much more important purpose now.

No matter what, Steve’s not letting Bucky do something that he might regret doing later.

Fake-Steve nods and pats his knee. “Thanks, Buck. I’m gonna met you at home, okay? I don’t feel good cause I’m starting to get sick.”

Bucky nods gravely and touches Fake-Steve’s forehead as if he’s feeling for a fever. Then he scrambles to his feet, walks past Steve and heads off down the street.

Steve is about to leap up and hurry after Bucky, but Fake-Steve has probably forgotten about him and Steve is in no hurry to remind him. Fake-Steve would probably not be happy to discover that Real-Steve has arrived to rescue Bucky, so the longer Fake-Steve remains unaware, the less chance that he’ll try to run off with Bucky.

Getting up slowly, Steve casually meanders after Bucky. He only picks up his pace when he’s passed enough people that he’s sure Fake-Steve can’t see him anymore. Then he hurries up to Bucky, who’s walking with definite purpose. “Buck!”

Bucky glances over his shoulder, but his expression darkens when he sees Steve and he keeps walking.

Steve doubts Bucky will willingly take money from him at this point, so Steve has to work quickly to get Bucky to trust him a little more. Or just think of him as less of an enemy. “Buck, please! Listen to me! That other guy, he’s not your Stevie, but I am.”

Bucky keeps ignoring him.

Jogging to catch up to him, Steve walks next to him. “Ned didn’t really tell both of us we couldn’t play ball, did he? He only told me cause he didn’t want me playing with him. You could have played with ‘em, but you decided not to. You groused about—”

“Shut up!” Bucky snarls at him.

“Ask that other Steve who Ned is! Ask him where Ned lived and what Ned’s last name is. I guarantee that he won’t know. You remember where Ned lived? He lived where we lived, in Brooklyn. And his last name was Tucker. Ned Tucker.”

That’s when it seems Bucky’s had enough. They’re passing a wall and Bucky stops and slams Steve into it. Being this close to the stench coming off Bucky has Steve struggling to breathe but once again, defending himself is the furthest thing from his mind.

Bucky is glaring at him, looking exhausted but angry. “I don’t—I don’t—what it is. Know—I don’t. You—My—the cup needs to stay on the sidewalk.”

Steve blinks at him. “I know you’re confused. You’re tired, you’re confused, you’re sick and I wanna help you.”

Bucky growls and slams him against the wall again. “You’re annoying.”

“Ask me anything. _Anything._ I’ll tell you anything about our pasts. I know those things cause I’m the real Steve, not that other guy.”

“Lies!” Bucky snarls. “You’re lying! You—you’re lie—you’re lying!”

Finally, he slams Steve against the wall again and steps back. “Go away!”

This isn’t working, so Steve decides to change tactics. His main objective is to spare Bucky from having to do something horrible in order to get stupid Fake-Steve his stupid medicine, which means Steve has to stick close to Bucky and wait for the right opportunity to give him money. “If you think I’m not Steve, then why do you care if I hang around, huh? I ain’t hurting you, I ain’t stealing from you. It’s a free country and I can walk wherever I want and sit wherever I want.”

Bucky glares at him and opens his mouth to respond, but abruptly, his face goes blank, his eyes roll up into his head and he slumps forward against Steve.

Steve scrambles to catch him before Bucky slides to the ground. A few seconds later, Bucky’s growling and using his right hand to weakly smack him until Steve gently releases him. “Okay, okay. I’m letting go. You wanna sit down?”

“Go ‘way,” Bucky mumbles against Steve’s chest. He finally manages to push himself off Steve, but he barely takes a few steps away before his face goes slack again, his head lolls forward and he slumps against the wall.

Steve manages to grab hold of him before he falls over and gently guides him down to the ground.

This time, Bucky doesn’t come out of it immediately. His eyes are rolled up and his mouth is gaping open as he sits flopped against the wall.

Steve has no idea what’s going on. Is Bucky so weak from hunger that he’s randomly losing consciousness? Is he hurt? “Buck? Can you hear me? Do you want me to call an ambulance? Do you need something to eat?”

There’s no response for a few more seconds, then Bucky abruptly starts blinking and slowly comes back to life. He sits up straight and after blinking around a few times, his gaze settles on Steve again and then he’s back to glaring.

Growling angrily, Bucky braces himself with his shaking right hand and slowly pushes himself up to his feet, looking pale and exhausted. He’s not using his metal arm to help him at all, it just gets dragged upwards with the rest of him.

Steve doesn’t know if there’s something wrong with the arm, or if Bucky’s just too weak to control it unless he’s got a surge of adrenaline going through him. When it’s not being fuelled by adrenaline, it seems to be nothing more than a heavy chunk of metal attached to his side.

Once Bucky’s standing up again, he takes a deep breath and slowly starts walking back the way he’d come.

Steve realizes Bucky’s mistake when they’re halfway back to the place where Fake-Steve is waiting. He can’t stomach watching another confrontation between them, so he hangs back and watches from the corner.

Sure enough, Fake-Steve gets upset that Bucky had forgotten to get his medicine—whatever that may be—and after some yelling, gesturing and shoving Bucky, Fake-Steve points back down the street, and Bucky comes back towards Steve.

He looks upset and close to tears and doesn’t seem to notice Steve. It’s a struggle for Steve not to pull Bucky into his arms and comfort him. Bucky would probably rip his arms off if he tried.

This time, Steve keeps a careful distance and follows him through some winding streets and back alleyways. They end up in the seedier part of town and that’s when Bucky slows down, carefully staring at the people they pass.

They’re now surrounded by people who are living as rough as Bucky is. Some are sitting or sleeping on the sidewalk, others are pushing rattling carts filled with their possessions and a few are standing in groups, talking to each other.

Some people are hunched over, fussing with needles, cigarettes and various other things that Steve can’t identify. A few of them glance up and when they see Bucky, their eyes widen with fear and they scramble to their feet and hurry away. Steve frowns because that reaction is at odds with how they should be reacting if Bucky regularly exchanged intimate favors for money with them…

Bucky doesn’t seem to care that they’re scared of him. He heads right for a thin, stringy haired woman who’s sitting on the ground, carefully unfolding a piece of foil, a glass tube sticking out of her mouth. Reaching her, Bucky stands over her. “Gimme that.”

Her eyes jerk up and she looks scared, but she immediately stuffs the foil down her dirty jeans. “Go away! Buy your own!” she cries out, the glass tube still dangling from her lips.

“Gimme that or I take it from you,” Bucky says again. His voice is flat and there’s no sign of the stuttering and confusion from earlier.

That’s when all the pieces finally fall into place for Steve, even though he doesn’t understand why Fake-Steve wants a piece of foil. It seems Bucky hasn’t been exchanging sex for Fake-Steve’s medicine. Instead, Bucky’s been defaulting to some of his other learned skills, but these skills are ones that Bucky had learned from Hydra. They involve less seductive smirking and more violence.

Bucky clenches his metal fist, making the woman scramble up and attempt to run, but Bucky grabs her by the throat with his metal hand and slams her against the wall. The glass tube falls from her lips and shatters on the ground.

Steve’s been so overloaded with things in the past few hours that it takes him a few seconds to respond. “Buck! Stop!” He darts forward and grabs Bucky’s metal arm. Due to Bucky being weak, Steve can actually pull the metal arm, but when Bucky notices what he’s doing, he puts all his weight behind the arm, which pushes the hand harder against the woman’s throat. Immediately, Steve releases the hand, which makes Bucky ease up a bit too.

Steve desperately tries to catch Bucky’s eyes, but they’re dark with focus, glaring at the woman. “Buck, let her go.”

“Stevie needs his medicine,” Bucky says. The words are still flat, rehearsed. As if Bucky does this all the time, which he probably does.

“I understand that. But I’ve got money, so we don’t gotta hurt this poor woman or rob her. Let her go and I’ll give you money so you can buy the…the medicine the proper way.”

Bucky turns his head and frowns at him, appearing to have forgotten about the poor woman batting at his hand and struggling to breathe.

Desperate, Steve pulls out his wallet and yanks out a few bills. “See? I’ve got money. Let her go and you can buy the medicine.”

Bucky abruptly releases the woman, who slumps to the ground. Snatching the money from Steve, Bucky heads further down the alleyway.

Steve is torn between checking on the woman and following Bucky, but the choice is taken out of his hands when the woman stumbles away, wheezing for breath and clutching her throat.

Heading after Bucky, Steve follows him down another alleyway and Bucky heads directly for a young man who looks much cleaner than everybody else around him. Not saying anything to him, Bucky just hands him the money. The man counts it and discreetly hands Bucky a small square of folded foil.

Pocketing the foil, Bucky walks out of the alleyway without even glancing at Steve.

Steve is about to strike up a conversation, but he notices that they aren’t walking back to where they had left Fake-Steve. Instead, they stay in the bad side of town. They walk down another alleyway and Steve sees Fake-Steve waiting for them behind a grimy building with boarded up windows.

Fake-Steve doesn’t seem to care that Steve is there. He holds out a hand, making an impatient gesture. “Did you get my medicine?”

Bucky nods and smiles. “Yeah, I got it.” He pulls out the little piece of foil from his pocket and Fake-Steve snatches it from him.

Unfolding it, he inspects the foil and then smiles at Bucky. “You did good, Buck. Thank you. You take such good care of your Stevie, don’t you?”

Bucky smiles and nods enthusiastically. “That’s my job. I promised Mrs. R.”

“Uh huh. Open the door. I gotta take my medicine.”

Walking up to the metal door of the building, Bucky pulls open the heavy door with his metal arm. The door screeches as it opens and Fake-Steve ducks inside, followed by Bucky.

Steve’s become so accustomed to following Bucky around that he steps towards the door to follow him, but Bucky shoves him back. “No. You don’t come inside.”

“I just wanna make sure you’re okay. I—”

Bucky glares at him. “I don’t need—I got the medicine and I—and I promised Mrs. R!” With a final glare, Bucky pulls the heavy door shut and Steve is left standing on the pavement, staring at the closed door.

He figures they’re probably going to stay there for the night, but Steve hates the idea of not knowing what Fake-Steve is doing. Having seen him push Bucky around with Bucky making no effort to defend himself makes Steve fear for what Fake-Steve could do to him if Bucky doesn’t do what he says.

Bucky will probably get upset if Steve barges in and that’s not what Steve wants. He just wants to make sure Bucky stays safe and has a good place to sleep. Plus, if he’s going to successfully get Bucky away from Fake-Steve, he’ll have to gather more intel.

Well, Steve’s had plenty of experience sleeping in abandoned buildings and figuring out how to get into them when he’s not supposed to. Back in those days, Bucky would always do the preliminary scouting and then he’d help lift or pull Steve inside. This time, Steve is on his own.

Taking a few steps back from the building, Steve inspects the outside and notices a second floor window with a small ledge. Lucky for him, it’s open a crack. Walking back down the alleyway to give himself room to gain momentum, Steve mentally prepares himself and takes off running, using the wall to plant his foot and jump up high enough to reach the ledge. Pulling himself up, he brings his arms up and braces himself while he pulls the window open enough to get through.

Desperately hoping that nobody is watching him, he wiggles through and gently rolls onto the dirty floor. Rolling to his feet, he glances around, hoping he isn’t invading somebody’s living space. He’s happy to discover that the room is empty and covered in dust.

Listening hard, Steve can pick up voices from the floor below. Creeping into the hallway, Steve spies the railing where the stairs are…except there aren’t any stairs. There’s the gaping opening where the landing used to connect with the stairs leading down, but they’re gone.

Well, this explains why nobody’s been up here for a long time. This is perfect! As long as he stays hidden, Fake-Steve and Bucky won’t know he’s up here.

Realizing he could betray his presence by stepping on a creaky floorboard, he lies down on the filthy, rough carpet and slowly slides forward towards the edge of the landing. Along the way, he mentally thanks Dr. Erskine. Without the serum, he never would have gotten in here without Bucky’s help and the dust that’s swirling around him would have killed him due to his asthma.

Cautiously, he pokes his head up and peers over the edge of the landing. To his surprise, the room is filled with other people. Some are wrapped up in blankets and sleeping on the floor, others are sitting together on filthy mattresses as they talk and eat. Fake-Steve is sitting on a mattress, carefully unfolding the piece of foil that Bucky had given him.

Steve gets worried when he doesn’t see Bucky right away, but as he shifts around to see the room below better, he finally spots him.

Bucky’s sitting against the metal door with his knees pulled up and he’s rubbing at his temples as if he has a headache. He looks upset and once again, Steve aches with the need to comfort him and do whatever’s necessary to make him feel better.

Unfortunately, nobody else seems to care about Bucky’s situation. They’re all ignoring him, even Fake-Steve.

Speaking of Fake-Steve, he’s fully focused on holding the flattened foil in one hand while his other hand holds a flickering lighter underneath the foil, and he’s got the same kind of glass tube in his mouth that the woman had. He’s carefully moving the lighter around underneath the foil and directing the glass tube. Once he’s done, he crumples up the foil and weakly tosses it away. His hand pulls the tube from his lips and limply falls to his lap.

Within minutes, Fake-Steve is slumping further and further down against the wall, his mouth gaping open, his eyes rolled up and his head lolling against the wall and down against his chest.

The effect is slower than what had happened with Bucky earlier, but Steve knows this reaction must be connected to whatever medication Fake-Steve had just consumed. The last time Steve had seen somebody have such a reaction after taking medicine was during the war when he’d gone to the medical tent to do the routine check-ups that Peggy had always insisted on. He’d pass through the beds filled with wounded soldiers and he’d see the nurses administering the very strong pain medication to those who had suffered painful injuries. Those soldiers would get these zoned-out looks on their faces too.

But Fake-Steve hadn’t had any injury that Steve could see. Certainly not one that requires such strong pain medication. Besides, he’d told Bucky that he’d get sick if he _didn’t_ get his medication, but it should be the other way around.

That’s when Steve finally gets it.

Fake-Steve must be addicted to the pain medication. Steve had heard of this happening to soldiers who had come home from the Great War and needed pain medication to manage permanent injuries. Many of them got addicted to the stuff. Despite Fake-Steve not appearing to have any permanent injuries that require pain medication, he seems to have gotten addicted to it anyway.

Steve feels sorry for him, but his sympathy grinds to a halt when he remembers that Fake-Steve has manipulated Bucky into getting him drugs by pretending to be Steve. The man’s gotten Bucky mixed up in this whole situation despite Bucky not being in any shape to make good decisions.

It also occurs to Steve that he hasn’t seen Bucky eat or drink anything and they’d been together for hours. And Fake-Steve had made it clear that the money in the cup which Bucky was supposed to collect by begging would have gone to purchase drugs, not food for Bucky. In fact, Fake-Steve had never once asked about Bucky’s well-being, whether he’d eaten or offered to get him food or water. So in addition to forcing Bucky to get his medication for him, Fake-Steve isn’t doing anything to help Bucky in return.

It makes Steve sick to realize that Bucky trust this man. Bucky’s usually nobody’s fool. He’s tough, smart and he and Bucky had gotten into a lot of big fights when they’d disagreed over how each of them was doing something. But clearly, the combination of not being able to take care of himself and his confusion are making it impossible for Bucky to do more than blindly trust the person he thinks is Steve.

Whenever Steve was sick, he remembers he’d always trusted Bucky. If Bucky said to eat this or drink that or that he had to go back into the cold bath one more time, Steve would cry and beg but he’d end up doing it because he trusted Bucky. He’d often been too nauseous or in too much pain to understand what was going on, but if Bucky said to do something, Steve knew he should do it because Bucky always wanted what was best for him.

Steve’s heart aches at how Fake-Steve is taking advantage of Bucky’s kind heart and his love for Steve. Even if his memories are fractured, it’s clear that Bucky remembers Steve and remembers how much he cares about him. Keeping Steve healthy or making him healthy when he was sick were always Bucky’s biggest priorities in life. So when Fake-Steve told Bucky that this medication would keep him from getting sick, he’d chosen the perfect tool to manipulate Bucky with.

Again, Steve finds himself wondering how on earth this man knows all these things about them. How had he found Bucky? How had he figured out how to manipulate Bucky? How long has this been going on?

But these thoughts all take a backseat to the pain clutching his heart. Bucky appears to be having trouble keeping his eyes open but he keeps jerking awake. Steve assumes Fake-Steve and the others in the room have told Bucky that it’s his job to guard them, which would explain why Bucky’s exhausted.

Steve glares around at the others in the room who are eating food and drinking from bottles of water and none of them are making any effort to share what they have with Bucky. Nobody even spares Bucky a glance. Bucky’s sitting there, exhausted and starving, yet he’s protecting all of them and they’re giving him nothing in return.

It makes Steve unbelievably angry. He needs to get Bucky away from these people, especially Fake-Steve.

Steve’s so busy being angry and hurt by what Bucky’s going through it takes him a while to notice that Bucky’s fallen asleep against the door. At least, Steve hopes Bucky’s asleep and not having another one of those short stints of losing consciousness. But when he stares at Bucky, he can see that his eyes are properly closed and he’s leaning against the door, not slumped against it.

For the first time, Bucky looks a bit peaceful. Steve knows it’s an illusion. Bucky’s sick, hungry and thirsty, but at least he’s getting some rest.

That’s when Steve decides he can’t stay here like this. Lying on the floor and focusing on his anger and pain won’t get Bucky the help he needs. He needs to call Sam and get a plan together. He’s not leaving Bucky with these horrible human beings a second longer than he has to, especially Fake-Steve.

But that’s the problem. Even if Bucky doesn’t care about the others in the room, he definitely cares about Fake-Steve. Steve can’t just kidnap Bucky and keep him tied up somewhere with the hopes that he’ll come around one day. Despite his good intentions, he’d be hurting Bucky almost as much as Fake-Steve is, not to mention that Bucky would be focused on getting back to Fake-Steve.

Moving slowly, Steve crawls back to the window and jumps out. He walks to the end of the alleyway so there’s no chance that Fake-Steve or Bucky will overhear his conversation, but he can still see the metal door. Pulling out his phone, he calls Sam.

Sam’s voice is cheerful when he answers. “Hey. Have you eaten dinner yet? I’m starving. I’m kind of in the mood for sushi?”

It’s ironic that Sam would start the conversation off like that, since Steve _is_ starving, but taking time to eat is the last thing on his mind. “Hi. Listen, I gotta tell you something and you’re not gonna like it.”

Sam is silent for one moment. Then he sighs softly. “Okay. I can be ready to go tomorrow afternoon. But not earlier than 2. I gotta do group.”

“No, no. Sam—I…I found Bucky.”

Now there’s a much longer silence. “You…found Bucky? What do you mean? You have a solid lead?”

“No, I actually found him.”

“Where is he?”

“Right now? He’s sleeping in an abandoned building near…” Steve looks around and tells Sam the nearest street names.

“I—you—what?! Barnes is here, in DC?”

Steve blinks. He hadn’t even stopped to consider how ironic it is that he and Sam have been running all over the world looking for Bucky, and Bucky had never left DC. Or maybe he had, but his association with Fake-Steve isn’t brand new, so Bucky’s been in DC for a while.

“Yeah. He’s—he’s here. But he—Sam—he ain’t doing well at all. He—” And maybe it’s the stress of this entire day, but now that Steve is no longer laser-focused on Bucky, a lump grows in his throat and tears brim his eyes. The enormity of the situation hits him all at once.

“Steve, try to breathe, okay? I’m coming to get you right now. Just stay where you are.”

“I can’t leave him, Sam. I won’t.”

“Okay, we’ll talk about that when I’m there.”

Steve hears various noises from Sam’s end of the line. Sam must be leaving his apartment and getting into his car to help Steve because Steve is lost and scared and he needs a plan so he can help Bucky. He’s fully crying now, standing there in the mouth of the alleyway, the sun slowly setting and darkening his surroundings. “He—he’s sick, Sam.”

“Sick in what way?”

“He’s so confused. And he’s exhausted, he’s lost so much weight and Fake-Steve didn’t get him anything to eat, probably all day and—”

“Who’s Fake-Steve?”

“Oh. He’s—” Steve sniffs hard and tries to stop crying long enough so he can talk. “He’s some shady fella who’s manipulating Bucky. He’s pretending he’s me and Buck trusts him cause he thinks he’s me.”

“Steve, I need you to start from the beginning, okay? I’m almost there, but I need you to take me through the whole thing from the beginning.”

Nodding, Steve takes a shaky breath. He’s not sure why Sam needs to know this right now and he’s gonna have to skip a lot if he’s going to finish the story before dawn. But Sam knows what he’s talking about. “Okay. Well…Buck and I met when I was seven. He—”

“No, buddy. I didn’t mean that beginning. I meant: how did you find Bucky today? Where did you find him? What did you say to him?”

Oh. Well, that’s a much more sensible question. So Steve stammers and cries his way through the events of the day, not leaving anything out. Sam only interrupts a handful of times, asking him to pause for a second and sometimes there are muffled sounds from his end of the phone. Steve always waits patiently, crying quietly until Sam tells him to continue.

In the middle of the story, Sam suddenly appears in front of him, but Steve keeps holding onto his phone and talking on it until Sam gently reaches out and tugs it out of his grasp.

“Hold on a second, okay? Come sit in my car.”

Steve follows Sam and numbly gets into the passenger side seat. He can smell food. Sam climbs into the driver’s seat and reaches down, taking out an enormous brown bag and putting it into Steve’s lap.

“Eat at least half of that and then we’ll keep talking. It ain’t sushi, but McDonalds was on the way and it was quick.”

Although his stomach growls from the scent of the warm food on his lap, Steve feels guilty. “I can’t eat this. Buck hasn’t eaten all day.”

“Bucky’s sleeping right now so he can’t be eating anyway. But if you don’t eat, then you’re gonna get weak and you can’t help Bucky when you’re weak, right? We’ll get Bucky food and water when he wakes up, I promise.”

So Steve opens the bag and starts inhaling burgers and fries. Sam reaches into the backseat and pulls out a bag full of water bottles and cracks one open for Steve. Then he grabs a few burgers for himself and they eat in silence. Every few minutes, Steve looks past Sam and peers down the alleyway at the metal door to reassure himself that nothing has changed.

After eating almost the entire contents of the brown bag and drinking three bottles of water, Steve feels calmer. Maybe his body is just sinking into a digestive haze, but the distraction is good for calming his nerves.

Sam wipes his mouth and hands with a napkin and tosses the brown bag filled with wrappers and empty boxes into his back seat. “Alright. Now you can finish. What happened when Bucky went to get Fake-Steve his medicine?”

Steve finishes the story. Sam appears very concerned when Steve tells him that Bucky had two of those weird mini-coma sessions. “Did you notice him doing that before?”

Opening his mouth to say that he’s never seen anything like it, Steve pauses. That’s not really true. He remembers Bucky had gone vacant and dropped his head during their first conversation too. He hadn’t completely collapsed, but because he was already sitting down and hunched over, the effect may have been less obvious? “I think he did it when I first talked to him. I just thought he lost his train of thought and decided to ignore me.”

Sam presses his lips together. “You’re not gonna like this, but I think Bucky’s suffering from seizures.”

That leaves Steve feeling dumbfounded. “Seizures? He wasn’t flopping around, Sam. I think he’s just weak.”

“Weakness is one thing. But he wouldn’t spontaneously lose control of his entire body if he were just weak. You said his face went slack and his eyes rolled up? That’s a textbook definition of atonic seizures.”

Steve blinks. He had no idea different kinds of seizures existed, but now he’s even more frantic and fear clutches him. “Are—are they dangerous? They don’t look that bad.”

“Any seizures are dangerous, man. It basically means there’s something bad happening in Bucky’s brain. There’s some wires that are getting crossed in a way they shouldn’t. It’s probably an aftereffect from the electric shock he had to go through. The problem is that it could get worse at any point.”

“So…what do we do?”

“In the long term, Bucky’s gonna need to be on medication. It’ll be tricky with his serum, but hopefully it’ll work. But right now, we have to focus on getting him food and water. The seizures are using up a lot of his body’s energy, so if he doesn’t have a lot of energy anyway, he’s gonna keep getting weaker faster. We gotta get food and water into him.”

“And we gotta get him away from Fake-Steve.”

“Definitely. But we gotta be patient and smart about it. We can’t just grab him and take him away from him.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, I know. He doesn’t trust us and he’ll just wanna get back to him.”

“Exactly. Bucky’s in an abusive situation, but he’s convinced Fake-Steve cares about him and he feels responsible for keeping Fake-Steve safe. Which means he’s not seeing Fake-Steve as a threat and that’s what we have to change.”

“How do we make him see that Fake-Steve is really hurting him? He won’t listen to me.”

“He will. You have the ultimate superpower here. You really _are_ Steve Rogers. All those random memories running through Bucky’s head? You know what they all mean. You can provide context that Fake-Steve can’t. You can use that to start making Bucky doubt Fake-Steve and consider you a trusty-worthy source of information. Did he recognize you at all?”

Steve shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Mostly, he was just angry that I was bothering him.”

“But he does remember Steve Rogers, right? You said his memories were all things he’d said or people said to him, right? Maybe his clearer memories are all auditory, not necessarily visual.”

Sitting up straight, Steve gets an idea. “So he might remember things if I say them?”

“Maybe. But you gotta be patient and smart. We don’t know what’s going on in Bucky’s head. If you scare him by coming on too strong, he might run and in his condition, that might be the end.”

Fear clutches his heart again and Steve leans against the car seat. “Okay. Smart and patient. I can do that.”

Sam smiles. “I know you can. Gimme your phone.”

Frowning, Steve hands it over and watches as Sam plugs it into a charger connected to an outlet in his car. “There. That should be good to go in a few hours. Now, gets some rest.”

Nodding, Steve reaches for the door handle.

“I said ‘get some rest’, not ‘go for a run’.”

Steve snorts. “I heard you. I’m gonna go rest, I promise. I’ll come back here in the morning for my phone.”

“Where exactly are you gonna sleep? On a bench? Don’t be stupid, man. Put the seat back and get some shut-eye. I’ll wake you up in two hours and then you’re on watch.”

Staring at Sam, Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Sam…”

Sam’s pulled out his phone and he’s quirking an eyebrow at Steve. “You’re eating into your two hours.”

Feeling a warm glow in his chest, Steve tries to quell the ridiculous smile on his face. For the millionth time, he thanks his ma for having sent him Sam. “Thanks, Sam. See you in two hours.”

“No problem. Sweet dreams.”


	3. Chapter 3

They take turns sleeping in shifts and there’s no change in the alleyway. A few hours after dawn, Steve is shaken awake. “Heads up, Rogers. They’re on the move.”

Steve is awake in seconds, looking past Sam and sure enough, Bucky and Fake-Steve have stepped out of the building. Fake-Steve is stretching and talking and Bucky’s got a small smile on his face but he’s hunched in on himself, looking tired.

Sam lets out a snort. “Man, he don’t look nothing like you, does he? This supports what I was saying about Bucky’s auditory memories being a lot more intact than his visual ones.”

Sam discreetly starts his car and when Fake-Steve and Bucky round the corner and head down the sidewalk, Sam follows without Steve having to ask him to.

“They’re probably gonna go back to where Buck was yesterday,” Steve mumbles and points at the storefront where he’d seen Bucky yesterday. Sam pulls into a parking space across the street from the store.

Sure enough, once Fake-Steve and Bucky get to the store, Fake-Steve hands Bucky the paper cup he’d been carrying and folds Bucky’s hands around the cup, talking to him urgently. He’s probably telling him he needs to be a better job watching the cup today so he can raise money for Fake-Steve’s ‘medicine’. That rage from yesterday simmers to life in Steve’s gut again.

At a gesture from Fake-Steve, Bucky sits down in the same spot he’d been in yesterday and puts his cup down in front of his feet. Fake-Steve squats down in front of him and Steve can see him talking to Bucky for a bit longer before he gets up and walks away.

Sam glances at Steve. “Okay, here’s today’s plan. You go sit close to Bucky and start working on convincing him who you are. I’ll go get you guys some food and water and I’ll be back.”

“Okay.” Taking a deep breath and hoping his ma is watching and ready to help him, Steve unplugs his phone and gets out of the car, stuffing his phone into his pocket and pulling his hood on.

Casually walking across the street, Steve crosses between two cars that are a bit down from where Bucky is sitting, not wanting him to think that Steve is trying to corner him. He gets to the same spot where he’d sat yesterday and slides down to the ground. A second later, he realizes he really needs to pee, but he’ll deal with that later.

Glancing over at Bucky, he sees Bucky’s ignoring him. He’s sitting cross-legged today and his right hand is in his lap as he stares at the paper cup in front of him, his dirty hair hanging in his face.

Time to see if this’ll work. “Good morning, Buck. How did you sleep?”

Immediately, Bucky’s head snaps up and he looks around. To Steve’s surprise, Bucky doesn’t look confused. He looks excited and he’s got a little smile on his face. But he doesn’t seem to have realized that the voice had come from Steve.

Steve gives him a little wave. “Hey. Good morning. How did you sleep?”

The wave catches Bucky’s attention and he stares at Steve. Immediately, the smile slides off his face and he looks annoyed. Turning away from Steve, he seems to slump into himself and Steve thinks he’s having one of those seizures again.

But Bucky straightens almost immediately and reaches out to adjust the cup a bit.

Since Bucky isn’t feeling talkative, Steve decides to break the silence. “I slept okay. It was better than sleeping in the park. You remember that? We had to sleep in the park by the river a few times. That was in Brooklyn. Usually, we tried to find a place to live before we got evicted, but a few times we—”

Suddenly Bucky turns his head and glares at Steve. “Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! Stop using his voice! You ain’t got—it ain’t the right—the face ain’t—I want—the voice is _important!_ Stop it!”

Steve thinks he understands what’s going on in Bucky’s head. Bucky may not be able to express himself clearly, but Steve can tell what’s bothering him. “Who do I sound like? Huh? Whose voice do I have? Steve’s? That’s cause I _am_ Steve.”

Bucky clenches his metal hand into a fist and looks livid. “You stole it and that ain’t—it goes back! It sounds…the voice—in my—you can’t! You _can’t!_ ”

Then he abruptly freezes, his face goes slack again and he collapses back against the window of the store, his head banging against the glass. He’s had another seizure.

“Shit! Buck!” Pushing himself up, Steve hurries over to him, but Bucky comes out of it before Steve can touch him.

He blinks and frowns around in confusion. When he sees Steve standing over him, he glares up at him and reaches for his cup to adjust its position again. He seems to get distracted by the coffee store’s name on the cup because he stares at it in fascination and runs his fingers over it. That seems to make him forget all about Steve, because when he’s done he leans back against the glass and goes back to staring off into space.

Moving slowly, Steve goes back to his usual spot and sits down. They’re silent for a while. Steve is debating saying something again, but Bucky beats him to it.

“A whole new pack of pencils! Oh, that’s real swell! Musta cost a fortune, huh?” Bucky’s smiling and he reaches out a hand, grabbing hold of air and giving it a little shake.

Steve smiles. Bucky must be remembering his ma having bought him a new pack of pencils for his birthday or Christmas. They weren’t anything special, just a normal pack of pencils, but to Steve, they might as well have been made out of gold. Bucky’s hand must be remembering how he would grab Steve and shake him with excitement whenever they had good news to share.

“Ma got me a pack of pencils, huh? You remember what I’d do with the pencils?”

Bucky isn’t looking at him. Maybe he thinks it’s the Steve in his memories who’s talking to him, because he keeps smiling happily. “You’d sketch things. The ball…and…and…me! I had my snappy suspenders!” He gropes at his chest as if he can feel the suspenders he’d worn every single day for decades. “The dog—it—it—so…it licked my hand!”

Steve doesn’t know exactly what dog Bucky’s talking about. They’d never been able to afford having a pet, but Bucky had always loved animals and he’d befriended every stray cat and dog in the neighborhood. Steve always enjoyed watching Bucky playing with the animals or trying to comfort them when they were scared, but Steve always had to enjoy it from a distance because of his allergies.

“You liked it when the dog licked your hand, huh? It made you laugh,” Steve says.

Bucky chuckles softly still sounding happy. Then suddenly, he stops laughing.

Alarmed, Steve is about to leap up again, thinking Bucky was having another seizure, but Bucky starts talking again. This time, his voice is flat and robotic. “The target—the target will be approached—it will—from the northwest—northwest—to the building. Weapon check! I will comply.”

Then he abruptly stops talking again and has another little seizure. This time, he has another one almost as soon as he’s recovered and slumps against the glass behind him.

After the second one is over, Bucky is slumped against the store glass and he’s trembling and making small pained sounds in his throat. He brings the heel of his right hand to his forehead and wearily massages it, as if he has a headache.

Steve’s hands are clenched. He wants to rush over and comfort Bucky, but he knows it’s too soon. His approach wouldn’t be seen as an offer of comfort. Besides, what can Steve really do for him? Bucky needs food, water and medication.

Speaking of food and water, where the hell is Sam?

As Steve discreetly digs his phone out of his pocket to check if he’d received any messages, he sees a van suddenly skid to a halt in front of the parked cars lining the street. The van has the name of some church on the side and a woman hops out of the passenger seat. She glances at Steve and Bucky, then leans back into the van and reappears with four bottles of water in her arms.

She squeezes between two parked cars and approaches Bucky. “Good morning, sunshine!”

Bucky’s still wearily rubbing his forehead, but at the sound of the woman’s voice, his head snaps up and he’s back to smiling. “Morning, sugar. How ya doin’ dollface?”

Steve blinks. It’s like it’s 1935 and Bucky is greeting one of the many women in the neighborhood who had been in love with Bucky Barnes since the day he was born.

It’s been decades, but Steve’s first reaction is that familiar seething jealousy. His jealousy hadn’t cared that he and Bucky could never openly be together anyway—and asking Bucky Barnes to hide away would be a disservice to Bucky and the rest of the society—and his jealousy also didn’t care that Bucky probably hadn’t felt the same way about him. His jealousy has always been pointless, but Steve had stopped trying to control it long ago.

The woman lets out a delighted laugh. Some things apparently never change. Even though Bucky looks terrible and smells even worse, he can still flirt with the best of them. She leans down to put two of the water bottles next to him. Glancing at his cup, she makes a sad face. “Nothing yet?”

Bucky frowns at her like he doesn’t understand, but when she gestures at the cup, Bucky lunges for it and looks into it, looking hopeful. But when he sees it’s empty, he makes a sad face. “No, nothing.” Then his face lights up again. “I think Jones has some of his coffee ration left! You should ask him!”

The woman nods and smiles. “Right. Cause Gabe’s a good egg, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“I’ll ask him, sweetheart. Make sure you drink that water, okay?” Digging into her sweater pocket, she pulls out a handful of coins and drops them into the cup. “Have a good day.”

Then she hurries over to Steve and holds out the two other bottles of water. Steve frantically lowers his head and hopes the hood will shield his face from her. He has no idea how he can explain what Captain America is doing sitting on the sidewalk.

“Well, hello, there! You must be new around here. My name is Delilah. Would you like some water?”

“Uh…I’m not…I…”

“You’re a bit shy, huh? That’s okay. I’ll leave the water right here.” Putting the water down, she runs back to the van, jumps in and the van drives away.

Steve blinks down at the water. Well, that was nice. And it explains how Bucky hasn’t died of dehydration, despite Fake-Steve not giving him any water and Bucky not making any attempt to get his own.

Bucky has already opened one of the water bottles and is drinking it in big gulps. When he’s drained one of them, he reaches for the other, but then his hand freezes. He bites his lips and stares down at it. “We gotta ration, Stevie! If Mr. Mason don’t pay me next week again, then we ain’t gonna—Mr. Mason—it’s real important! _Real_ important!”

Then he carefully puts the bottle of water behind him and checks on his cup again. Apparently, he forgot about Delilah’s contribution, because his eyebrows fly up when he sees the coins in there. “Oh, wow,” he mumbles and takes the coins out. He carefully inspects each one, staring at them in fascination.

Steve smiles softly. Bucky’s probably fascinated by some of the coins which hadn’t existed back in their day. When Steve had come out of the ice, he hadn’t known about the changes in currency until he’d gone to the store to buy something for the first time and he hadn’t just been shocked by the prices in the store but when he’d pulled out the bundle of cash SHIELD had given him, he’d nearly fallen over when he’d seen that he’d been given _stacks_ of twenty dollar bills. Just one of those twenty dollar bills would have covered his and Bucky’s rent for a month.

But what had fascinated him even more was when he’d gotten his change back from the cashier and he’d noticed the existence of some coins he’d never seen before. He’d done research on it afterwards and discovered that the tiny little ten cent coin had appeared just after the war, followed by the larger fifty cent coin in the 60s. Steve had been amazed by the fifty cent coin, the existence of which emphasized how much inflation had gone up during the decades. He could have used just one of them to buy movie tickets for himself and Bucky, back in the day.

Glancing at Bucky’s collection of coins, Steve can see a lot of twenty-five and fifty cent coins in there, which is nothing in today’s world, but just one of those twenty-five cent coins would have been Bucky’s hourly wage back in the day, and that was after the government had introduced the first law about minimum wage in ’38. Bucky’s holding what used to be his daily wage in his lap and some of those coins are probably really confusing for him.

Remembering his own difficult journey, Steve’s heart aches and he’s desperate to teach Bucky all the things he’d struggled to learn over the last few years to catch up from his unintended time travelling, but he reminds himself to take it slowly.

Besides, Bucky doesn’t look scared by the coins, only fascinated. Maybe he doesn’t think they’re real or maybe Steve’s being overly optimistic and Bucky doesn’t remember the cost of anything from any era and he just likes looking at the shiny things.

Bucky puts each one on his lap when he’s done looking at it, but then he suddenly smacks himself on the forehead. “What did I say, Buck? The money has to stay in the cup! You gotta remember that!” Moving hastily, he puts the coins back into the cup and puts the cup back in its normal spot.

Steve knows exactly what just happened. Bucky had probably been remembering Fake-Steve’s orders about what to do with the coins in his cup.

Once Bucky has calmed down again and he’s back to staring at nothing, Steve decides to give Bucky his water. Sam will show up soon and Steve wants to know what Bucky’s reaction to getting food and water from non-Delilah people will be.

He knows his voice will confuse Bucky, so he stays silent and discreetly rolls one of the bottles towards Bucky. It hits his knee and Bucky startles a bit and stares down at it, looking perplexed.

He stares around, but Steve carefully keeps his face hidden beneath his hood.

Bucky leaves the bottle where it is for a few minutes, but he keeps glancing at it. He mumbles something, but all Steve can hear is snatches of different words: “goof” and “Mr. Mason” and “ration”.

Then Bucky finally reaches over and gingerly picks up the bottle. Rummaging around behind him, he pulls out his spare bottle and carefully compares them. He must like what he sees, because he smiles and shoves both bottles behind him.

Steve wants to cry at Bucky’s rationing. He wants to explain that they never have to ration again. Bucky can drink as much water as he wants and eat as much food as he wants and they’ll never run out. Steve’s about to roll his second bottle towards Bucky when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He got a message from Sam, telling him he’s parked down the block and Steve should come find him.

Casually standing up, Steve walks away from Bucky but keeps glancing back at him while he scans for Sam’s car. He sees that Sam had parked on the same side of the street as Bucky, so Steve can get into the passenger side and still see Bucky.

“Hey.”

Sam smiles. “Hey. Sorry I’m a bit late. I got supplies and I also followed your evil twin for a while.”

That intrigues Steve. “Is he working somewhere?”

Sam’s smile fades instantly and now he looks angry. “Nope. He’s two blocks that way—” Sam jerks his thumb behind him. “—hanging out with his buddies. I doubt they’re exchanging resume-writing tips.”

That anger lights up in Steve’s gut again. Those few coins that Delilah had given Bucky won’t be going to feed Bucky or to save up for a better place to sleep. Those few coins will be used by Fake-Steve to buy more drugs for himself and he did nothing to earn those coins. Bucky will spend the entire day sitting in the same spot, hungry and tired while he carefully guards that cup because he’s loyal and there’s no limit to what Bucky Barnes will do for a person who he thinks is Steve Rogers, and this dumb twit is taking advantage of that.

But Steve’s plan to get Bucky away from Fake-Steve is already in motion. He’ll get Bucky fed, give him more water and he’ll keep trying to connect with him.

Sam twists around and grabs a duffel bag from the back seat and drops it in Steve’s lap. “Here. I figured it would look weird if you’re sitting there with a bunch of grocery store bags, so I went shopping and put everything in there.”

Opening the bag, Steve digs around inside. There are two cases of water, boxes of granola bars, cut up fruits and vegetables and a dozen different sandwiches. There’s also a bag of caramel treats, which makes Steve smile. “You remembered my stories about the caramel, huh?”

“Of course I did. I don’t know if Bucky will, but I figured it’s worth a try. Oh, and one of those cases of water ain’t water.”

Frowning, Steve pulls out the pack of six small bottles, held together by rings of plastic. They’re definitely not water. The label insists it’s a vanilla flavored meal replacement.

“They’re nutritional shakes. Vanilla was the plainest flavor they had. I don’t know if Bucky’s gonna be okay with solid food, but if not, you can try getting him to drink some of these. If that’s what he’s comfortable with, then I’ll get you a lot more. But no matter what Bucky’s eating, I want you eating some of this too, okay?”

Steve smiles. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now get back to your boy and I gotta get to work. Text me updates every hour and I’ll be back in the evening.”

Frowning, Steve stares at Sam. “Sam, you don’t gotta—”

“I know I don’t gotta, but I’m gonna anyway.”

Feeling overcome with emotion at Sam’s kindness again, Steve leans over and hugs Sam tightly. Smiling, Sam shifts around and hugs him back. “You be careful, okay? Take care of both of you.”

“I will, I promise. I’ll see you in the evening.”

“And remember: hourly texts.”

He gives Sam one more tight squeeze. “Hourly, I promise.”

Grabbing the bag, Steve gets out of the car and makes his way back to Bucky.

Bucky seems lost in his own little world again because he gives no sign that he’s aware of Steve sitting down a few feet from him. Deciding to get Bucky fed as soon as possible, Steve pulls out one of the sandwiches and opens the plastic wrapping a bit so Bucky can get to it easier. Leaning over, Steve puts the sandwich close to Bucky.

The movement attracts Bucky’s attention and he stares at the sandwich, looking confused. He checks behind himself and pulls out his water bottles to examine them, then puts them back and stares at the sandwich. He makes no move to pick it up. It seems that this change to his usual routine is too difficult for Bucky to understand.

Steve decides to take a gamble and uses words from the past to try to entice Bucky to eat in the present. “Ma says we gotta come inside, Buck. It’s dinner time!”

Bucky jerks upright and stares straight ahead, wide-eyed. “We gotta get—we gotta get washed up before dinner! Dinner—it’s gonna—we gotta get washed up!” He sounds very excited.

“That’s, right, Buck. We’ve washed up and now it’s time for dinner. There’s your dinner. Let’s eat up!”

Bucky stares down at the sandwich, smiles happily and reaches for it with a trembling hand. He carefully tugs off the plastic and nibbles on it. Tilting his head as if he’s not familiar with the taste and texture of bread, he frowns a bit, then lets out a happy laugh and starts devouring the sandwich, happily mumbling to himself as he eats.

Steve grins and unwraps his own sandwich to join Bucky for breakfast.

While Bucky’s distracted with the sandwich, Steve takes the plastic off a box of chopped vegetables and slides it over.

Bucky glances down at the box. His enjoyment of the sandwich seems to have replaced any confusion over how food is randomly appearing next to him, because he takes the box and alternates taking bites of his sandwich and poking at the vegetables in the box. He takes out various pieces, smells them and nibbles on some of them. He doesn’t like the celery pieces, but the carrot ones get methodically eaten, one by one.

His metal arm doesn’t participate at all. It just lies on the sidewalk, completely ignored, but the rest of him seems excited to be eating. Everything’s going well and Bucky is smiling happily—until his enthusiastic chewing abruptly slows and grinds to a halt.

Steve is worried he’s having another seizure, but Bucky drops a carrot into the box and clutches his stomach. Letting out a pained whine, Bucky abruptly leans over and throws up on the sidewalk. People who are passing by quickly jump away from him.

“Jesus!” Jumping up, Steve hurries to Bucky’s side and puts a comforting hand on his back while Bucky gags and continues to vomit, his entire body trembling. Steve remembers words Bucky had spoken to him whenever Steve had gotten sick like this and uses them in the hope that they’ll make Bucky feel a bit better. “It’s okay, Buck. It’s okay. If it don’t wanna stay in your belly, then let it back out. It’s okay. I know it’s scary, but it’ll be over soon.”

Eventually, the vomiting stops and Bucky’s body is wracked by dry heaves while horrible sounds come from his throat. People are giving them a very wide berth.

Steve rubs his back as Bucky weakly slumps against him, shaking and crying a bit.

Reaching for one of Bucky’s hoarded water bottles, Steve opens it and holds it to Bucky’s lips, helping him rinse his mouth and encouraging him to spit out on the sidewalk. He washes his face and beard for him, using his own shirt to wipe him dry.

Bucky is clutching his stomach and moaning from pain, tears still sliding down his cheeks. Steve keeps up a running stream of soothing words. He has no idea if Bucky can actually understand him, but Steve figures it can’t hurt. “You’re being so brave. I’m so proud of you. I know your belly didn’t like that, but it’s okay. We got other food you can try, I promise. I know you don’t feel good, but it’ll be over soon.”

Pulling Bucky to his feet and holding him against his chest, Steve stumbles a few feet away from Bucky’s mess and gently lowers Bucky to the sidewalk. He wraps Bucky’s hand around the open water bottle and uses a few other bottles to wash the sidewalk as clean as he can.

When that’s done, he collects Bucky’s discarded food and stuffs it into an empty plastic bag from the duffel bag where he’s collected the plastic wrap and other garbage. Grabbing Bucky’s paper cup which had fallen over during the chaos, he carefully puts Delilah’s coins back into it and puts the paper cup on the sidewalk in front of Bucky.

The presence of the cup seems to distract Bucky, who looks worried and starts moving the cup around, trying to find a good position for it.

Steve sits down a few feet from him with the bag on his other side.

For the next few hours, not much happens. Bucky’s stomach stays sore for a while, since he keeps rubbing it and hunching over. Occasionally, he gets distracted by a memory and says something, and he also has two seizures. A few people stop to drop some coins into his cup, which always leads to Bucky examining all of the coins and then admonishing himself for taking them out and quickly putting them back into the cup.

Every hour, Steve texts Sam. Eventually, he has to wander into the nearby alleyway to relieve himself, and then he comes back and decides to see if Bucky will try drinking one of the nutritional drinks. Tugging one out of the plastic netting and cracking it open just enough so Bucky won’t have trouble with it, he puts it on the ground and sends it rolling towards Bucky.

It hits Bucky’s knee and once again, he’s startled by its presence. But this time, he frowns at it and immediately reaches over with his right hand and gives it a push, sending it back towards Steve. Maybe he’s equating the strange item with the food that had made him sick?

When the bottle is next to Steve again, he stares down at it, thinking. He remembers that Bucky likes his water bottles, so Steve takes out his remaining bottle from Delilah, transfers the water into one of the empty ones that Sam had bought and pours half a bottle worth of the nutritional shake into it. It looks weird to see the creamy beige fluid in the clear water bottle, but hopefully Bucky will like it. He debates filling it to the top, but he knows that Bucky likes sweet things and he may down the whole thing too quickly and make himself sick. It’s best to be cautious and only give him a limited amount until they’ve seen how Bucky’s stomach likes it. And maybe Bucky doesn’t like sweet things anymore and he’ll refuse to drink it at all.

Steve rolls the bottle back towards Bucky and waits.

When the bottle hits his knee again, Bucky glances down and does a double-take when he recognizes the water bottle. Fumbling behind himself, he pulls out one of his own water bottles and stares back and forth between it and the other water bottle.

Frowning hard, Bucky lifts the shake-filled bottle and stares at it. “This ain’t—this ain’t—how ya doin’ dollface—two bottles, always two—if it don’t wanna stay in your belly, then let it back out—and the new pack of pencils it…Gabe’s a good egg…a good egg.”

He keeps muttering to himself, combining things in a way that must make sense to Bucky, but Steve loses track of what he’s trying to say. But finally, Bucky’s curiosity and hunger must win out because he unscrews the lid and carefully sniffs the shake.

He smiles right away, probably enjoying the sweet, sugary scent. Bucky’s always had a sweet tooth, one which they couldn’t often indulge. He takes a very cautious sip, but as soon as he tastes the sweet liquid, he lets out a happy laugh and gulps the whole thing down. When he’s done, he carefully screws the lid back on and licks his lips.

“I think you boys have earned—have earned a—a—” Bucky’s voice drifts off, but instead of launching into another sentence, he frowns and appears to be annoyed at having forgotten the rest of the sentence.

Steve knows exactly what he’s talking about. “I think you boys have earned a treat. That’s what ma used to say, ain’t it? Whenever we did something real nice for somebody or did well in school, she’d give us treats. You remember your favorite treat?”

Bucky’s smiling, listening to Steve’s voice but he still doesn’t turn his head to follow the source of the sound. He smacks his lips together. “It was—it was yellow and sweet. I can taste it.”

“Caramel. You always loved caramel. If we had any pennies to spare at the end of the week, ma would send us to buy caramel and taffy. Then we’d go home and put it in the jar. Where did the jar live?”

Bucky frowns, then his face lights up and he points up into the sky as if he can actually see the jar in front of him. “On the—on the—on the cupboard. We weren’t supposed to—supposed to—it was dangerous to climb—I better not catch you boys climbing up on the counter to get to the treats!”

Steve laughs. “Yeah, that’s exactly what ma would say. You want a piece of caramel, Buck?”

“I—I ain’t—what’s—that’s a treat. That’s a _treat._ ”

“Yeah. And you did so good drinking all of that so I think you deserve one.”

“Mrs. R decides if we get treats. That’s—that’s the way things are.”

Steve grins, his heart slowly starting to glow. They’re gonna be okay, he just knows it. They’re gonna figure this out and they’re gonna be okay. “I heard ma say that you deserve a treat. Hang on, let me get one out of the jar for you.”

Reaching into the duffel bag, Steve takes out a piece of wrapped caramel. The twisted wrapping will be hard for Bucky to undo with one hand, so he takes off the wrapping. Looking around, he tries to decide how to safely roll it over to Bucky without it getting covered in filth that Bucky shouldn’t be putting into his mouth.

There’s nothing catching his attention, then he stops and thinks that it’s time he make Bucky aware of his presence again. He’s not sure if Bucky’s been assuming he’s a hallucination or if he’s not capable of actually wondering about where Steve’s voice is coming from. Either way, it’s time to continue the main mission: get Bucky away from Fake-Steve.

Steve holds out his hand, but he’s far enough from him that Bucky can’t just reach over and grab the candy. He’ll have to come to Steve. “Here, Buck. Here’s a piece of caramel for you.”

Bucky looks down to where the other bottles and food had appeared, but when he doesn’t see anything, he looks around. He looks excited about the caramel, but that look disappears the second he sees the caramel in Steve’s hand and follows the outstretched hand to Steve’s face.

Bucky’s expression darkens and he scowls, looking away.

“Come on, Buck. It’s me, Steve. I got a piece of caramel for you. It’s all yours cause I already ate mine. You know we only get one piece each. Ma said—”

“Stop using his voice! You ain’t—you ain’t got the right!” Bucky bursts out angrily, making several people passing by startle back with shock and steer around him.

Steve refuses to give in this time. He still doesn’t understand why Bucky is refusing to accept that he’s not Steve, but he won’t let Bucky win this argument. Bucky’s life depends on it. “I didn’t steal Steve’s voice! I _am_ Steve.”

“You—you took it! It’s not—that’s—it ain’t right! You—you ain’t—” He points a shaking finger at Steve, his eyes dark with rage. “— _stop_ using his voice! We’re gonna—we’re gonna have some trouble here, fellas! Some—some trouble here!”

Rolling up to his knees, Steve knee-walks closer to Bucky, the rough pavement digging into his knees, as he holds out the caramel. “If I stole Steve’s voice, then how do I know all the things I know?”

Bucky’s breathing hard, trembling with anger. He shakes his finger at Steve again, his face pale from rage. “You don’t know nothing,” he snarls out between clenched teeth.

“I know that ma kept our treats in the jar. I know Gabe always gave you his coffee rations cause he hated coffee. I know Ned Tucker always wanted you to play on his ball team, but he didn’t want me playing cause I couldn’t run fast enough and I couldn’t see the ball real good.”

Bucky clamps his hand over his right ear. He doesn’t cover his left ear so maybe he doesn’t realize the metal arm is still lying on the sidewalk. “Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” He pulls his knees up and buries his face behind them.

“I ain’t gonna shut up, not until you believe me. You’re smarter than this, I know you are! How can I know these things if I ain’t Steve?”

Carefully, Steve shuffles closer to Bucky on his knees but doesn’t touch him.

Bucky’s metal arm finally moves, clenching into a fist and hitting the pavement. “You _stole_ it! You—you stole it and it ain’t right—it ain’t right!” Lifting his head from his knees, he glares at Steve from behind strands of greasy, tangled hair. “You ain’t my Stevie! My Stevie will be here soon.”

“That ain’t your Stevie. He don’t sound like Stevie, does he?”

Bucky’s glare doesn’t ease. “He—he—he’s Stevie.”

“No, he ain’t. Does he sound like Stevie?”

Bucky lets out a growl. “No, cause you stole his voice! You—you stole—it ain’t—it ain’t right—cause you stole it! You stole—”

Then Bucky’s voice abruptly cuts out as his eyes roll up into his head and all the anger drains out of him and he slumps against the store window behind him. He’s had another seizure.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve feels guilty when Bucky has a seizure. He has no idea if the seizures are happening randomly or if this stressful argument has contributed to it, but he thinks they’re on the right track. Yesterday, Bucky had only responded with violence, followed by silence. The fact that he’s actually arguing back and answering Steve’s questions is progress.

Once Bucky starts blinking again and slowly sits up, Steve reaches behind Bucky and pulls out one of his water bottles. “Here, drink some water.”

Bucky’s hand is shaking too hard to hold the bottle, so Steven gently holds it to his lips and helps him drink a few sips. Screwing the cap back on, Steve returns the bottle behind Bucky.

The anger has faded and Bucky just looks exhausted. He squeezes his eyes shut for several long seconds and rubs his temple with his right hand.

“You got a headache, pal?”

Bucky nods wearily. He sits there for a few minutes, slumped against the glass and staring at nothing. Then his eyes land on the paper cup and he weakly lunges for it, carefully bringing it to his lap and staring into it.

“Oh, wow,” he says softly, his face lighting up when he sees the coins inside and he carefully takes them out and examines them—despite having examined those same coins multiple times that day.

It’s clear that Bucky’s completely forgotten about their argument, which means Steve will have to start again. He knows Bucky’s long-term memory isn’t as bad as his short-term one. He remembers Fake-Steve’s orders regarding the cup, he knows who Delilah is and he remembers where to go to get Fake-Steve his drugs. All Steve has to do is make Bucky believe what he’s saying and repeat it until Bucky’s committed it to his long-term memory.

“Buck? I got you a piece of caramel here. Ma says you deserve a treat,” Steve says, shaking his hand at Bucky, the caramel still on his palm.

Bucky turns to his hand, but the second he sees Steve’s face, he scowls and turns away from him.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “You don’t want the caramel? It tastes real good. Or how about more of that sweet vanilla shake, huh? Your belly seemed to like it. You want more of that?”

“You stole. You stole his voice,” Bucky mumbles, still stubbornly sticking to his guns but the seizure has zapped a lot of his energy.

“No, I didn’t. I’m your Stevie. If I weren’t, then how do I know that you love caramel? How do I know that ma kept the caramels in the jar on top of the cupboard, huh?”

Bucky shakes his head weakly. “No. You ain’t Stevie. You stole it.”

“That don’t make sense. If I just stole Steve’s voice, how do I know all these things, huh? Ask me anything. _Anything._ ”

Bucky is silent for a few minutes, staring mulishly at the parked cars in front of him. Then he turns his head and glances at the caramel in Steve’s hand. “How—how did you know…how did—how did you know about the treats?”

Deciding that Bucky probably won’t be taking the caramel from him any time soon, Steve drops his hand into his lap. “I know about the treats cause I’m Steve. I grew up with you in Brooklyn and it’s my ma who’d give us a few pennies to go buy treats from the store. You remember that? We’d bring the treats home and put them in the jar that lived on top of the cupboards. Ma put it up there cause we couldn’t reach it. You remember how you climbed on the counter that one time to get to the jar?”

Bucky frowns. “I better not catch you boys climbing up on the counter to get to the treats,” he mumbles.

“Yeah. But we ignored her and when she was at work one day, we pulled a chair over and you stood on the chair and tried to climb up on the counter, but you smacked your head on the bottom of the cupboards.”

Immediately, Bucky’s eyes widen and he brings his hand up to his forehead, as if he’s remembering what happened. That’s a fantastic sign.

“That’s right! Then you fell off the counter and you broke your arm. You screamed so loud that Mrs. O’Reilly from next door came running and helped us. She grabbed you and hauled us over to the hospital.”

Bucky blinks hard and frowns. “You—you—here, Buck! Hold my hand and it won’t hurt so bad.”

Steve smiles. “That’s right! That’s what I said. I sat next to you and held your other hand while the doctors were setting your arm, didn’t I? You were crying cause of the pain and I was crying cause you were crying. And the whole time, Mrs. O’Reilly’s yelling at you for having climbed up on the counter.”

“Since when are you such a twit, Bucky Barnes?” Bucky bursts out, a smile on his face.

“That’s right, that’s exactly what Mrs. O’Reilly said! Ma had some choice words for you too when she heard we were there and came over to take care of us, didn’t she? And your pa was gonna give you a whupping when you got home, but then your ma pointed out that your arm hurt bad enough and you being in a cast for a couple of months was gonna be enough punishment. You told me about that the next day at school.”

They’re both smiling. It’s so bizarre and also comforting to talk about these memories from 70 years ago that Steve thought he’d never get to relive with anybody ever again—never mind relive them with the person who’s actually part of those memories.

Slowly, Bucky glances over at Steve. His smile fades, but he doesn’t look angry, just confused. “You took—you took Stevie’s voice and his memories? Why? You seem nice. Did Stevie give you his voice and—and his memories before he died?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, Buck. I didn’t die. I’m your Stevie.”

Bucky blinks, then he looks annoyed again. “No, my Stevie is—my Stevie’s here. He’ll come—he’ll come for the—the cup. The money has to stay in the cup! You gotta remember that!”

It seems that Bucky has a harder time keeping his thoughts straight when he gets confused or upset. Not wanting Bucky to lose his train of thought again, Steve tries to steer them back to talking about memories. They’d made good progress with the jar memory.

“Ask me another question. You asked about the jar and I told you about that. Ask me something else. Did you ever ask that other Steve something about your past? Ask me what you asked him and we’ll see who knows the right answer. Only the real Steve would know the right answer, right?”

Bucky still looks upset, but it’s a sign of how far they’ve come when his only response is to turn his head and appear to be thinking. He’s quiet for a few minutes, during which Steve pops the melting caramel into his mouth and sucks on it.

It’s been long enough since Bucky’s had half of the shake and he hasn’t thrown up or acted like his stomach is in pain, so Steve fills another empty water bottle with vanilla shake. Hopefully, Bucky will drink it, despite Steve having used one of Sam’s water bottles instead of Delilah’s. The empty water bottle that had contained the first portion is still on Bucky’s lap and Steve isn’t willing to test their fragile truce by asking him to hand it over.

“Here, Buck. Here’s more of that sweet stuff you had before.” Steve holds the open bottle towards Bucky.

At the mention of ‘sweet stuff’, Bucky’s head snaps over, looking interested. He smiles and eagerly reaches out his right hand to grab the bottle. It’s the first time Bucky’s actually taken something from Steve directly.

Sniffing the open bottle, Bucky makes a happy sound and starts drinking it.

“Remember, keep thinking about what you wanna ask me. Something that you asked the other Steve.”

Bucky nods and keeps sipping from the bottle, smacking his lips and looking very happy.

Steve has time to unwrap a granola bar and finish it before Bucky abruptly says: “Tell me.”

Swallowing his mouthful, Steve lowers the granola bar. “Tell you about what?”

“Tell me about Peaches.”

Steve frowns. “We rarely had money for expensive fruit. I don’t remember you ever eating a peach. Sometimes we had apples, but no peaches.”

Bucky’s shaking his head hard. “No! No, no! Peaches. The—dog. It licked my hand!”

Oh! Steve gets it. “That was one of the stray dogs. There were a lot stray cats and dogs in our neighborhood. I don’t remember you naming one of the Peaches, but maybe you did. You always befriended all the strays in the neighborhood—”

Including one named Steve Rogers.

“—and you’d give ‘em names when we were younger. You’d spend time playing with ‘em or just sitting and talking to them if they were too scared to come to you. We didn’t have much to feed them but you hated hearing them cry and shaking from fear. You remember that one winter, you and I decided to bring that mama dog and her new puppies into the apartment? Oh, ma had a fit! I was wheezing and sneezing cause I was allergic to ‘em and we didn’t have nothing to feed the mama dog. You remember what happened with them?”

Bucky is frowning. “Peaches lived with me.”

“No, Buck. We didn’t even give ma dog a name, we just called her ‘ma dog’. We only had her in the apartment for a few hours. My ma knew we couldn’t keep her and the puppies with us until they were grown cause of my allergies and we didn’t have enough food or money to feed ma dog. Ma was still cleaning houses when she wasn’t doing shifts at the hospital, so she begged one of the rich homeowners to let her keep the dogs in their laundry room until spring and they even agreed to feed ‘em. You and my ma brought the dogs over there that night. That’s the only time we’ve ever had dogs in our apartments and that was only for a few hours.”

Bucky sits up straight with a jerk and glares at Steve. “That—that’s wrong! That’s _wrong!_ Wrong, wrong, wrong! It—Stevie said—he said Peaches was _my_ dog. It licked my hand!”

“Did he say you owned a dog? That’s baloney. You never had a dog. Never. Nobody in your family or mine could ever afford to have a dog at home. Your pa woulda had a fit if you even asked about it.”

Bucky clenches his jaw and puts down the nearly empty bottle of vanilla shake so he can raise his finger and shake it at Steve. “He—Stevie said! Stevie _said!_ It licked my hand! Peaches was your dog, Buck, remember? Peaches was _your_ dog! It—it licked my hand! Peaches was your dog, Buck! Your dog! Your dog! _Your_ dog!”

People are staring at Bucky as they pass, making a wide berth around the angry, shouting man sitting on the sidewalk. Steve ignores them and stays focused on Bucky. “That’s a lie. If that’s what the other Steve said, then he’s lying.”

The trembling finger shakes harder in Steve’s direction. “You! You’re lying! You stole—you stole his voice! Peaches was your dog, Buck! Peaches was—”

And his voice abruptly cuts out as he has another seizure. This time, he starts to slump sideways, away from Steve but Steve manages to lunge over to grab the sleeve of his jacket and keep him upright before he collapses onto the sidewalk and smacks his head. Yanking hard on Bucky’s sleeve, Steve manages to direct his fall towards Steve and catches him before he hits the ground.

Bucky slumps against Steve, mouth slightly open and eyes closed.

“It’s okay, Buck. You’re okay. I got you, buddy.” Steve gently wraps his arms around Bucky, but just enough to keep him from sliding out of his arms. Bucky will come out of it within a few seconds and he isn’t sure if Bucky’s okay with Steve touching him like this.

Slowly, Bucky starts blinking and stares blankly into space for a while, seemingly unaware that he’s in Steve’s arms. Then he makes a face and rubs his forehead.

The headache must be back. Or maybe it never stops and Bucky just gets used to the pain?

When his hand drops into his lap, Bucky encounters Steve’s hand, which leads to him looking puzzled and exploring Steve’s hand, which leads him to Steve’s arm and then he looks up and sees Steve’s face. The confusion immediately turns into a scowl, but it’s not as angry as before.

“You—you’re—you stole Stevie’s voice. You know—you know what Stevie knows,” he mumbles quietly.

“I know what Stevie knows cause I’m Stevie. You wanna sit up? You want some water?”

Nodding wearily, Bucky allows Steve to sit him up against the glass and help him drink some water.

“You remember we were talking about Peaches?”

Bucky frowns and doesn’t say anything for a while. He sips his water and moves his lips in a weird way and glares down at the bottle. “I want—I want the sweet stuff. I think you boys have earned a treat.”

“You got it. Hang on a second.” Steve grabs the nearly empty bottle from Bucky’s side and fills it with more vanilla shake. “There you go, pal.”

Bucky immediately switches the water for the vanilla shake and a small smile appears on his exhausted face as he sips the sweet liquid.

Bucky Barnes and his eternal sweet tooth.

Steve is about to offer Bucky a piece of caramel again, when it occurs to him how stupid that idea is. If Bucky suddenly has another seizure, he could end up choking on it. In fact, eating any solid food could be very dangerous for Bucky.

He reminds himself that they’ll get Bucky on medication which will hopefully help control the seizures. Until then, they’ll need to be extra careful. Besides, Bucky’s stomach can’t handle solid foods yet and Bucky can get all the nutrients he’s so badly missing from these shakes.

While Bucky drinks, Steve texts Sam another update and asks him to bring more shakes when he sees him tonight. He tells him to bring a few different kinds and maybe they can give Bucky some variety.

“Peaches was your dog, Buck,” Bucky mumbles in between sips.

Steve is thrilled that Bucky remembers that part of their conversation. He’s less thrilled that they’re back to this argument because he can feel that he’s on the right track, but if he doesn’t do this right, Bucky will continue thinking he’s the liar and Fake-Steve is the real Steve.

Remembering Fake-Steve, Steve mulls over how on earth this whole ‘Peaches’ thing had come about. It sounds vaguely familiar, but he knows neither he nor Bucky have ever owned a dog. He remembers Bucky had befriended a few of the strays who would stick around for a while, but the name Peaches doesn’t ring a bell. So why is it so familiar? And why did Fake-Steve try to convince Bucky that he had a dog?

The answer hits Steve out of the blue.

The museum!

He remembers the small part of the exhibit that’s dedicated to his pre-serum life in Brooklyn. Despite that period of time being more precious to Steve than his Captain America years, the interests of the public apparently go the other way.

The exhibit includes a few generic 1930s Brooklyn photos and descriptions, but they’d included a few of his personal possessions too. They had some of his and Bucky’s old clothes, an old pot that his ma had brought from Ireland and they had cooked a million meals in, and some of Steve’s sketches and a handful of his precious pencils.

He’d felt weirdly violated when he’d realized that somebody had gone into his and Bucky’s old apartment—which he’d intended on returning to once he got back from the USO tour in Europe—and had taken some of his things and put them on display after he and Bucky had both been presumed dead. He’d also thought it was strange that when he’d started frequenting the museum, none of the staff had ever asked him if he was okay with his things being on display like this.

The first time he’d seen that exhibit and stared at his ma’s pot, Bucky’s old shoes and Steve’s sketches showing his ma and Bucky and him all smiling and happy, he’d felt so overwhelmed with grief that he’d gone into the bathroom and hidden in a stall for an hour, trying to stifle his sobbing and wishing somebody would help him.

He’d come to the conclusion that while he enjoyed spending time in the exhibit, there were certain portions he had to stay away from—like the Brooklyn section and Bucky’s glass display—if he didn’t want to collapse into a puddle of grief.

But he had spent enough time in the Brooklyn section to remember what it said. One of the sketches Steve had drawn featured Steve and Bucky in their classroom at school when one of Bucky’s stray dogs had followed them to school one day. Bucky had smuggled the dog into the classroom and tried to hide him underneath one of the desks so he would be out of their teacher’s sight but also far enough that he wouldn’t bother Steve’s allergies.

Unfortunately, their teacher had discovered the dog within minutes and had forced Bucky to bring it back outside. The dog had cried outside the school for hours until it had wandered away and Bucky had been very upset, thinking that the dog believed it had been abandoned. To cheer him up, Steve had sketched him a picture of the two of them playing with the dog, while wearing their school uniforms.

That sketch was in the Brooklyn section of the museum exhibit. Underneath the sketch, there was a short description that Steve remembers word-for-word because of the blatant falsehood it contained.

_Steve Rogers (age 8) and Bucky Barnes (age 9) with Barnes’ dog, Peaches. Sketched by Steve Rogers, 1926._

He remembers being perplexed at this obvious falsehood that had been written out in black and white and presented as truth. Maybe it had been somebody’s job to figure out the context behind the sketch—the sketch which Steve had made for Bucky without any idea that decades later it would be in a museum for everybody else to gawk at—and the person had made up a plausible story. Maybe they’d considered Steve’s allergies and correctly guessed that he couldn’t have pets, but they’d gone with the next best assumption when they saw a picture of two boys in their school uniforms, playing with the dog. But the name ‘Peaches’ was pure fabrication.

Steve remembers feeling outraged at this blatant lie being presented to the public, but then he’d decided he actually preferred it this way. Once he’d discovered that the public knew intimate details about his pre and post-serum medical history, as well as details from private conversations he’d had with soldiers during the war, he actually started appreciating how few details were presented in the Brooklyn section. The fact that some aspects were completely falsified actually made him feel better. Like he still had some parts of his life that were completely private and just his.

But remembering that bit about Peaches makes all the pieces fall into place. What had Fake-Steve said to Bucky?

_“Peaches was your dog, Buck.”_

That’s such an oddly specific sentence that Steve knows there’s only one place Fake-Steve could have gotten that information. He’d been wondering how Fake-Steve had earned Bucky’s trust despite not looking anything like Steve and not sounding like him.

If Fake-Steve had gone to the museum at some point and recognized Bucky later, he would have put the pieces together. Maybe Fake-Steve had overheard Bucky talking about Steve and when he’d brought up things he’d learned from the museum, Bucky had automatically assumed the thin, sickly looking fella was Steve?

Due to Bucky’s memory problems, it wouldn’t have taken much for Fake-Steve to convince Bucky that he was the real Steve. Fake-Steve would have seen Bucky’s metal arm and probably realized that he could easily manipulate Bucky into helping him get his ‘medicine’.

Now that Steve’s figured it out, he knows he has all the ammunition he needs to get Bucky to turn against Fake-Steve. “Buck? You remember we talked about Peaches?”

Bucky is still sipping on his shake. He nods. “Peaches was your dog, Buck.”

“That’s what the other Steve said, right?”

Nodding, Bucky licks his lips and squints down into his bottle. There’s barely anything left in it, so he holds the bottle out towards Steve. “Can I have another—another treat?”

Smiling, Steve takes the bottle from him and fills it up again and hands it back. “Did the other Steve say that Peaches was your dog?”

“Uh huh,” Bucky mumbles, happily drinking more of his shake.

“Okay. So how long did you have Peaches? How many years?”

Bucky shrugs. “I dunno.” He sounds completely unconcerned that he doesn’t know this vital information about a dog he’d apparently owned, despite how much he loves animals.

“How old were you when you got Peaches?”

“I dunno.”

“Where did Peaches sleep?”

Bucky stops drinking and lowers the bottle. “I—I dunno.”

“What did Peaches eat? What was Peaches favorite treat?”

A frown is growing on Bucky’s face. “It—it—caramel.”

“Caramel ain’t a treat for dogs. You ate caramel, but you can’t feed caramel to a dog or it’ll get sick. What was Peaches favorite treat? What did you give her?”

“I—I—I—” Bucky’s looking agitated and Steve realizes he has to move slowly. He doesn’t want to stress Bucky out to the point where he gets another seizure. That’ll lead to memory loss and they’ll have to start again.

“You don’t remember, right?”

Bucky shakes his head. “I dunno. I—I dunno.” He sounds frantic now. “But—but—Peaches was _your_ dog, Buck. Your dog! _Your_ dog! I—I should know where Peaches slept and her favorite treats!”

Steve slowly rolls up to his knees and shuffles closer to Bucky. “I know you should remember. And you love dogs, don’t you?”

Bucky nods, still looking upset at himself.

“So if you did have a dog, you’d remember these things, right? Things like where she slept and what her favorite treat was. But you don’t and that’s okay, cause you never had a dog, Buck. Never. Peaches don’t exist.”

Frowning hard, Bucky turns his head and stares at Steve. “How—how—but—I—Peaches was your dog, Buck.”

“That other fella? The one who’s pretending to be Steve? He lied to you. Think about it: does he look like Steve?”

Bucky shakes his head.

“Does he sound like him?”

Another head shake.

“And does he remember things right? The way things were?”

A freeze, then a very slow, reluctant head shake.

“No, he don’t. Cause he ain’t Steve. He lied to you about a lot of things and you’re having problems with your memory and he took advantage of that.”

“But—but—he—Peaches was your dog, Buck! He said it! He—he said it!”

Steve gently grabs hold of Bucky’s hand, that’s clenched around the bottle. “Calm down, Buck. It’s okay. Take a deep breath and try to stay calm. You’ll make yourself sick if you get all excited, okay? That other fella ain’t Steve, I promise. But do you know who _is_ Steve?”

Bucky stares at him with wide eyes but doesn’t say anything.

“I’ve got Steve’s voice, don’t I? And I’ve got Steve’s memories. I told you about ma keeping the treats in the jar on the cupboard. How can I know these things if I ain’t Steve?”

Bucky keeps staring at him, but he doesn’t look angry or confused. He’s frowning hard like he’s puzzling through something. He glances down at Steve’s hand touching his own and shakes it off. “Don’t touch me.”

“Sorry,” Steve says, pulling his hand back.

Then Bucky leans against the store window and chews on his lip in silence.

For the next few hours, Bucky doesn’t say a word to him. Steve tries to engage him in conversation a few times, but Bucky only glances at him from time to time with that frown on his face, but doesn’t respond.

He does hold his bottle out whenever he runs out of shake and Steve dutifully refills it. Bucky only gets up a few times to relieve himself in the nearby alley. Hilariously, he leaves his precious cup with the coins on the sidewalk when he goes, obeying Fake-Steve’s demand that the money has to stay in the cup, which apparently Bucky has taken to mean that the cup needs to stay there too. He doesn’t seem to realize that leaving his cup and the coins sitting on the sidewalk like that presents an open opportunity for somebody to steal them.

Each time Bucky goes, Steve grabs the cup as he trails after Bucky, keeping an eye on him. He’s in no mood to listen to Fake-Steve yell at Bucky about the cup being empty again. Even though Bucky sees Steve when he’s done relieving himself, he just frowns at him and brushes past him to go back to his spot on the sidewalk. Bucky doesn’t even yell at Steve when he puts the cup back down in front of Bucky and shows him that all the coins are still in there.

In general, it’s good progress. Bucky’s attitude towards Steve has definitely changed for the better.

They continue sitting there, Steve eating from his duffel bag and re-filling Bucky’s bottles with more vanilla shake and giving him more water. As the evening rush hour brings more people along the sidewalk, Bucky gets a few more coins put into his cup, but he’s not as enthusiastic about checking each of them as before.

It seems that Bucky’s lost some of his enthusiasm for taking care of Fake-Steve.

When evening comes, Fake-Steve comes wandering down the sidewalk and Steve carefully keeps his face hidden beneath his hood. He doesn’t want Fake-Steve recognizing him from yesterday and correctly identifying him as a threat to his current living arrangement and running off with Bucky.

“Hey, Buck! I just got done with work. It was a gassy time! How was your day?”

Steve struggles not to burst out laughing at Fake-Steve’s completely wrong use of the term ‘gas’, but he’s distracted by Bucky’s unusual reaction to Fake-Steve. Instead of lighting up with a smile, Bucky doesn’t seem too enthusiastic about seeing Fake-Steve.

“I dunno,” Bucky mumbles, keeping his eyes on his bottle of vanilla shake.

Fake-Steve reaches for the paper cup and peers into it. “Oh, you did a great job today! How much money’s in here?”

“I dunno.”

Steve smothers a grin as he peers at them from underneath his hood. The fact that Bucky isn’t happy to see Fake-Steve is a great sign. He might not have convinced Bucky that he’s the real Steve, but hopefully he’s put enough doubt into Bucky’s mind to question who Fake-Steve is.

One step at a time.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve discreetly trails Bucky when he goes to get Fake-Steve’s so-called medicine. Bucky refuses to discuss the ‘Stevie’ situation, but he doesn’t seem to mind Steve tagging along.

When they’ve almost reached the place where Bucky had bought the drugs the day before, Bucky randomly has a seizure as they’re walking. One second, they’re strolling along with Steve a foot behind and to Bucky’s right—and the next second, Bucky stops and drops like a stone to the ground. Lunging forward, Steve manages to grab the back of Bucky’s jacket and yank him backwards so he’s falling onto Steve.

Wrapping his arms around Bucky, Steve manages to guide them down to the ground.

“Sir? Are you okay?” Comes a concerned voice from Steve’s right.

Since they’re in the middle of the sidewalk, they’re attracting quite a few stares, but most people must be able to tell from Bucky’s smell and his appearance that he’s homeless and they do their best to stay out of the situation. But one man in a business suit has stopped and he’s staring down at Steve, who’s kneeling on the ground with Bucky slumped in his arms.

“Do you need me call an ambulance for him?”

Steve shots him a quick smile from under his hood, then lowers his head again, not wanting to be recognized. “No, it’s fine, sir. He has a medical condition. He’ll be back up in no time, but thank you.”

Right on cue, Bucky blinks his eyes open and stares around with half-lidded eyes, looking exhausted.

“Buck, don’t freak out but I’m holding onto you cause you had a seizure and you were gonna fall down. Can you sit up? If you can, then I’ll let go of you.”

Bucky frowns but stays where he is. He makes no move to get away from Steve, but he shifts a bit so Steve’s knee isn’t digging into his back anymore.

“Buck, we gotta move over. We’re in the middle of the sidewalk, pal.”

“Do you need help getting him up?” The business man asks.

Bucky lets out an unhappy grunt at the question. Steve knows what that means. “No, it’s fine, sir. Thank you. I can get him up.”

“You’re sure? I can help.”

Steve gives him another smile. “No, thank you. Really, we’re fine.” Then he looks down at Bucky, who’s still blinking around sleepily. “Buck, come on. We gotta get you up.”

Making an annoyed sound, Bucky lets Steve help him up to his feet. Once the business man sees that Bucky is upright, he tells them to have a good night and walks away, leaving Steve with Bucky.

Bucky’s head must be hurting again because he’s making an unhappy face and wearily rubbing his temple. He shakes Steve’s hands off him, then he frowns up and down the sidewalk as if he’s confused over what he’s doing.

Steve has no desire to walk all the way back to Fake-Steve, listen to him yell at Bucky and walk all the way back. “We gotta get Fake—that other fella who’s pretending to be Steve, we gotta get him his medicine, remember?”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he looks more alert. “We gotta get Stevie his medicine!”

“That’s not Stevie. I’m Stevie. He lied about Peaches, remember?”

Bucky makes a face. “He said Peaches was your dog, Buck. But I don’t remember Peaches.”

“That’s right. Cause Peaches don’t exist. The other fella lied to you cause he ain’t the real Steve.”

Chewing on his lip, Bucky frowns. “You know—you know—I ain’t know Peaches favorite treat. Peaches was your dog, Buck. But Peaches wasn’t my—the dog—it licked my hand, but that’s a different—a different—I don’t know Peaches.”

Then Bucky sighs and shakes his head, as if all of this is too confusing. He must decide to put this whole thing aside for now because he continues walking the way they were going.

As they walk, Steve makes sure to stay closer to Bucky so he can catch him if he has another seizure. It makes him sick to think that Bucky’s been on his own this entire time and has probably been hurting himself whenever he has these seizures. Fake-Steve has probably never tried to help Bucky. Well, he couldn’t catch Bucky if he tried, but he probably never offered any comfort or help once Bucky was on the ground. They really have to get Bucky medication.

Once they get to the same alleyway as yesterday, most of the drug users scatter when they see Bucky. This doesn’t seem to concern Bucky. He heads right for the man who he’d bought the drugs from yesterday. Steve hangs back a bit, not wanting the man to recognize him.

He overhears their conversation and it quickly becomes clear that Bucky’s little pile of coins isn’t enough to buy whatever he needs to buy. Bucky doesn’t hesitate before he strides towards one of the drug users, who’s oblivious to the approaching danger and is focused on unfolding their little square of foil.

Steve lunges for Bucky and grabs his arm. “Buck, hang on, hang on. I’ve got money. You don’t gotta hurt nobody.” Digging into his wallet, Steve pulls out a wad of bills and hands them to Bucky, who heads back to the drug dealer.

Once the drugs have been purchased, the little piece of foil goes into Bucky’s pocket and they head back to Fake-Steve. They part ways at the mouth of the alleyway that leads to the abandoned warehouse where Bucky and Fake-Steve sleep. Steve hangs back, not wanting Fake-Steve to realize he’s there. Bucky gives him a long look and a deep frown before heading down the alleyway.

Once Fake-Steve and Bucky are inside and the metal door is closed, Steve heads down the alleyway to where he can see Sam’s car is parked. Opening the passenger side door, Steve leans down and grins at Sam. “Hey.”

Sam’s grin mirrors his. “Hey! That’s a great smile you’ve got, Rogers. I’m really impressed with you. You got a lot further with him today than I thought you would. But buddy, I gotta tell ya—you smell pretty bad.”

That’s when Steve remembers he’d used his sleeve to wipe Bucky’s face after he’d been sick, and he’s worn the same clothes for two days. “Yeah, I don’t smell great, huh? I’ll just grab Buck’s food and—”

“And nothing. Get in here. I brought you clothes to change into, I’ve got some wet wipes and I got your dinner. Come on.”

Feeling his heart glowing again at how much Sam is doing for him and Bucky, Steve gets into the car and shuts the door behind him.

* * *

A few hours later, Steve is roughly woken from his sleeping shift by Sam shaking him. “Steve! Heads up, man! Something’s going on.”

Blinking himself awake, Steve brings his car seat upright and peers past Sam. But even before his eyes have picked out what’s going on, his ears have picked up somebody yelling. More specifically, it’s Bucky yelling.

“The jar—the jar lives on—Peaches ain’t— _ain’t_ my dog! I don’t know—you ain’t got his voice! But you—you—the jar has the treats! It’s on the cupboard and we—since when are you such a twit?! Peaches ain’t—you don’t know!”

And then Fake-Steve is joining in. “Shut the hell up, you fucking retard! Who the hell cares about a stupid dog and your stupid jar? Gimme my drugs or I swear to God, you’ll be sorry!”

“You! You don’t know! Peaches ain’t my dog! You—you—you ain’t Stevie! You don’t know—the jar—it’s on—it’s on—”

“Shut the fuck up about the stupid jar! Fucking useless moron! Gimme my drugs or I swear to God—”

And that’s when Steve and Sam are both scrambling for their door handles, flinging their doors open and Steve is sprinting down the alleyway, his heart in his throat. He hadn’t seen Fake-Steve with any weapons, but if Bucky has refused to give Fake-Steve his drugs for the past few hours, there’s no telling what the man is capable of.

But when Steve reaches Bucky, he sees that Bucky has things under control. He’s glaring at Fake-Steve and his fists are both clenched—including the metal one—and he looks livid. There’s a big bump and cut on the side of his head, which fills Steve with concern and anger. If Fake-Steve laid a hand on Bucky, he’ll—

But no, he has to focus.

Bucky and Fake-Steve are still yelling at each other, and Steve is scared that the stress of the situation will bring on another seizure and he’s too far from Bucky to grab him. “Buck! Look at me. Buck, it’s me. It’s Stevie.”

Immediately, Bucky glances over at him. He had a smile on his face, but that disappears when he sees Steve’s face.

Fake-Steve takes advantage of Bucky’s apparent distraction and lunges for him, aiming for his jeans where he probably knows Bucky has the drugs.

Bucky swings at him with his right arm—thank goodness—and manages to hit him across the head. Fake-Steve may be small and sick, but he’s very motivated to get to his drugs and he’s not put off by Bucky’s hit and lunges for Bucky again.

Steve sees Bucky raise his metal arm, and that’s when he darts between them, shoving Bucky back against the wall and pushing Fake-Steve away.

“Okay, that’s enough! Buck, don’t touch him! If you accidentally kill him, it’ll be a huge problem. Now, give him his drugs so he’ll go away and you and I can talk, okay? We’ll talk about Peaches and the jar and anything else you wanna talk about.”

Bucky stares at Steve. He’s still angry, but he seems to be listening to what Steve is saying. “Don’t you _dare_ lie! Don’t you—don’t you dare! We’re gonna have some trouble here, fellas!” Bucky yells, shaking a finger in Steve’s face.

Steve shakes his head. “No, never. I’ll never lie to you, I promise.”

Bucky searches his face for several seconds. Fake-Steve is hanging back, having overheard what Steve had said.

Finally, Bucky rummages in his pocket and pulls out the little piece of folded foil. He holds it out and Fake-Steve grabs it and heads back into the warehouse, slamming the door behind him.

Then Steve is left with Bucky. Sam is hanging back, not close enough to be a distraction for Bucky but near enough that he can help if things go sideways.

Bucky looks close to tears. “You—you—he—he—he—” He points a shaking finger in the direction that Fake-Steve had gone. “He ain’t Stevie! He ain’t—he ain’t Stevie!”

“No. No, he ain’t.”

“But! But you!” The shaking finger gets turned on Steve and Bucky looks very upset. “You—you got his voice. You got his—got his memories. But—but you don’t—you don’t got his face. Where did Stevie’s face go? Where?”

Bucky stares at Steve with pleas in his eyes, as if he’s hoping Steve can solve the mystery for him.

And that’s when the last piece of this puzzle finally falls into place. The reason Bucky hasn’t recognized him and has reacted with such anger whenever he’s noticed that Steve’s voice is coming from Steve’s face is because he must have forgotten about the serum.

It’s not a surprise. Bucky had only seen Steve for a few months after the serum and those memories are very few compared to the nearly 20 years of memories that featured Steve being shorter and smaller. Not only did his face fill out and change shape from the serum, but Steve’s hairstyle is completely different from Bucky’s memories.

Steve struggles not to cry. “I’m sorry. I got the serum. They—it changed how I look. I know you don’t remember this body and this face, but I promise that it’s me.”

That makes Bucky’s face crumble and he takes a shaky breath, sounding very close to tears. “I want—I want Stevie’s face back. Where did you put it?”

“If I could undo it, I would. I swear I would, but I can’t. But it’s still me in here, I promise.”

Bucky looks heartbroken. “You—you have his voice but I—but I—I want my Stevie. I need—I want my Stevie. _My_ Stevie.”

Jesus. Steve’s heart is breaking. “I’m right here. I’m right here, I swear.”

Bucky shakes his head and looks miserable, his dirty hair hanging in his face.

“Buck, look at me. Look at my eyes. Those are still the same, ain’t they?”

Steve knows they are because he’s stared into the mirror a hundred times after the serum, trying to see what parts of the old Steve still remained. Even his smile had changed shape, but despite his eyes getting better, their color and shape had stayed the same.

Still breathing shakily, Bucky frowns, but stares into Steve’s face. But Steve can see his eyes constantly darting away from Steve’s eyes to the rest of his face. Bucky sadly shakes his head. “There’s no—that’s the wrong—the wrong face. You’ve got the wrong face.”

“Buck—”

But Bucky appears to want to move past this conversation right now. “I’m tired,” he mumbles.

Taking a deep breath, Steve struggles to stay in control of his emotions and adjust to the fast topic change. “Do you wanna come sleep where I’m sleeping?”

Bucky frowns. He looks at the closed door of the warehouse and makes a face.

“No, not in there,” Steve says. “Not with that other fella. You never have to see him again, if you don’t wanna. I’ve got other places I can sleep.”

Bucky thinks that over. “You—I—do I get more treats?”

“Of course!”

“And—and the cup. I need to bring my cup.”

“Okay. Where’s your cup?”

Bucky looks around, as if he was under the impression that the cup is right beside him. Steve is pretty sure the cup is in the warehouse, next to a zoned out Fake-Steve and he’s really not in the mood to go in and get it. Suddenly, there’s a clatter by their feet and when they look down, there’s a dirty paper cup by Bucky’s feet. It’s not Bucky’s cup and when Steve glances at Sam, he sees him smiling and shrugging.

But Bucky’s face lights up and he bends down to pick it up. He holds up the cup for Steve to see. “The money has to stay in the cup. You gotta remember that.”

Steve smiles. “I will, I promise. You ready to go? I’m gonna introduce you to—”

And that’s when he sees Sam frantically waving at him and shaking his head. Then Sam is miming that he and Bucky should walk back to—and he’s mouthing the word ‘hotel’.

Steve realizes Sam’s right. Bucky’s exhausted, he’s upset and he’s had a very traumatic last few hours. And his headache is probably worse from whatever Fake-Steve had hit him in the head with. This is no time to introduce Bucky to a complete stranger and ask him to sit in the stranger’s car.

Nodding to Sam, Steve focuses back on Bucky. “I got a nice place we can sleep. You wanna walk there? It’s got a nice bed and lots of treats.”

Bucky frowns. “Did—did Mrs. R say we can have treats?”

It seems Bucky’s exhaustion and the emotional turmoil of these last few hours have completely zapped his ability to focus. “She sure did.”

“He—I—Peaches _ain’t_ my dog,” he mumbles.

“I know, buddy. I know. You did real well remembering that. I’m proud of you. Come on, let’s go.”

Together, they walk down the alleyway to Sam’s car. Steve stops to take out the duffel bag that he’d stuffed full of the new food items Sam had bought, and takes his phone off the charger. Bucky doesn’t appear to care about what Steve is doing. He just keeps talking to himself about various things.

As they walk to the hotel, Sam carefully trails them, which Steve is grateful for. It’s the middle of the night and if Bucky has another seizure in the middle of the street, he’ll need Sam’s help.

Along the way, Steve glances at Bucky. “So, Buck. How did you get that bump on your head?”

It must be hurting him because Bucky has no problem understanding what Steve’s talking about. “I fell down,” he mumbles.

Ordinarily, Steve would think Bucky’s lying but given the situation, Steve’s pretty sure Bucky had a seizure and fell down. “You fell down and hit your head?”

“Uh huh. It’s okay. It’s not—it’s—it goes away.”

Thank God for Bucky’s serum. Without it, he probably would have died months ago.

When they reach the hotel, Sam gives him a thumbs up, mouths ‘Text me’ and leaves them to head back to his car. Steve coaxes Bucky into the hotel and although they get raised eyebrows from the night shift employee at the front desk, they make it up to Steve’s room with no difficulty.

In an ideal world, Steve would ask Bucky to shower—he’d like to have a shower too—but they’re both exhausted. Examining the cut and bump on Bucky’s head, Steve sees that it’s already looking better than it was an hour ago. Fussing with ice when Bucky’s this exhausted isn’t necessary so it’s best to leave it alone for now.

Bucky touches both of the beds curiously and sits on one of them. He carefully puts his paper cup on the bedside table and lies down, not bothering to take his boots off before he’s curling up and falling asleep on top of the covers.

Steve is left standing in the middle of the room. It’s one o’clock in the morning and Bucky’s fast asleep in Steve’s hotel room.

He can’t believe how insane the last two days have been, but none of that matters now. After months of searching, sleepless nights and that constant fear in his heart, he finally found Bucky. Things are far from okay, but Steve knows they’ll handle whatever they come up against. As long as they’re together, they’ll get through this.

Collapsing on the other bed, Steve doesn’t bother taking off his clothes either before he’s closing his eyes and falling asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Steve is woken up by Bucky shaking him. Blinking awake, Steve stares up at Bucky, his heart soaring just to see Bucky next to him. No matter what else happens, he’s got Bucky back and that gaping hole in his heart is finally healing. “Morning, Buck.”

Bucky looks very worried. “I gotta—I gotta—I gotta get to work. I gotta—the cup needs to stay in its spot and I gotta—I gotta watch it real close.”

Sitting up, Steve tries to wake up properly. Bucky’s got the paper cup in his hand and it’s clear he thinks it’s time for him to head out and sit on the sidewalk to gather more coins for Fake-Steve.

“No, Buck. You don’t gotta work for that fella no more.”

Bucky frowns. “But…who’s gonna—who’s gonna get him his medicine? Medicine? He needs—he needs his medicine.”

“Yeah, he does, but that’s his own issue. He can get his medicine himself.”

Bucky looks doubtful. “The cup needs to stay in its spot. I gotta watch it real close.”

Time to change tactics. “That fella told me he don’t need you to work for him no more. He told me last night.”

“But I—I did a good job.” Bucky sounds very concerned.

“I know you did, that ain’t the problem. You gotta take care of yourself right now so you don’t got time to make money for that fella no more.”

“I gotta—I gotta make money for myself?”

“No, you gotta do something much more important than that.”

Bucky stares at him, having no idea what Steve’s talking about.

Steve gives him a soft smile. “You gotta get yourself healthy.”

“But…but who’s gonna—who’s gonna make money to pay the bills? The landlord’s coming.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make money, okay?”

That makes Bucky shoot him a doubtful frown and Steve tries not to feel insulted. He digs his wallet out of his pocket and opens it up. “See? I’ve got money in here already and I can make more. Don’t worry about that. You gotta focus on getting healthy.”

Bucky’s frown tells him he still doesn’t like any of that.

“Hey, you remember what you’d tell me whenever I was sick?”

Chewing on his lip, Bucky thinks, but then shakes his head.

“You’d tell me that I just gotta focus on getting healthy and you’ll deal with everything else. Well, I’m big and strong now, but you’re sick so you gotta focus on getting healthy and I’ll deal with everything else.”

Bucky touches his own forehead, as if he’s feeling for a fever. “I ain’t sick.”

“No, not like that. You know when you get confused? Or when you fall down and you forget things?”

“Uh huh…that’s being sick?”

“Yeah. And what do you have to do when you’re sick?”

“I gotta—I gotta get healthy.”

“That’s right.”

Bucky chews on his lip for a bit, thinking that over. Finally, he nods. “Okay.”

“You want a treat for breakfast?”

Immediately, Bucky’s face lights up and he nods eagerly.

“Okay, but what did ma always say we gotta do before eating?”

“We gotta get—gotta get washed up!”

“That’s right. You wanna go do that?”

Bucky nods enthusiastically, then he frowns. “I don’t know how.”

“That’s alright, buddy. I’ll show you, come on.” Steve gets off the bed and heads towards the bathroom.

Bucky doesn’t follow him. “When—when we’re done, can we go see Stevie?”

Steve freezes and his heart plummets. “That’s not Stevie, remember? He lied about Peaches. He—”

To his surprise, Bucky firmly shakes his head. “No, no! That’s not—that’s not my Stevie. But you have Stevie’s voice and his memories—his—his memories. But his face ain’t here. Can we go see Stevie?”

So Bucky remembers that Fake-Steve is the fake Steve, but he still doesn’t trust that Steve is the real Steve. His mind whirling frantically, Steve tries to think up a way to jog Bucky’s memory regarding the serum or maybe even the war. Bucky seems to have fewer memories of the war than his life in Brooklyn and the memory he’d referenced most frequently—the one featuring him telling another soldier to ask Gabe Jones for his coffee ration—was one Steve had been there for, but Bucky doesn’t seem to remember his presence.

How can he trigger Bucky’s memories? Him telling Bucky about these things probably won’t lead to Bucky trusting him. Maybe if he looks up pictures on the internet and shows them to Bucky—

Oh, wait a minute! Oh, he’s such a goof! The perfect answer is just a few blocks away. “I’m gonna take you somewhere that’ll prove I’m the real Stevie, okay? I’ll show you what happened to my face to make it look different.”

That makes Bucky look interested, but he’s still hesitant. “But I get to have my treat first?”

“Of course. But we gotta get washed up before that, right?”

Immediately, Bucky’s nodding again.

“Alright, buddy. Let’s go to the bathroom and I’ll help you get washed up.”

* * *

The morning goes well. Steve shows Bucky how to wash his hands and use the toilet and convinces him to have a bath. He’s terrified that Bucky will have a seizure while he’s having a shower, so having Bucky sitting in the tub with Steve sitting on the edge and watching him is much safer.

That turns out to be a good decision because Bucky does have a seizure in the middle of washing himself. Instead of collapsing into the water, Bucky slumps into Steve’s arms, who ends up crouching in the bath water with his clothes on because he didn’t plan ahead very well.

Despite the seizure, Bucky seems to love having a bath. Unfortunately, Bucky is still not using his metal arm for anything. He drags it into the tub, lets it thud to the floor, and it stays there, unmoving. But the rest of him is smiling and enthusiastic. He enjoys smelling the soap and allows Steve to help him wash his hair but he washes most of himself without needing to be helped. They even manage to get him shaved and when Steve combs Bucky’s wet hair off his cleanly shaved face, Bucky suddenly looks much more like himself.

It’s shocking to see how much muscle mass Bucky has lost in the last few months and how gaunt he looks, but Steve firmly reminds himself to stay cheerful for Bucky’s sake and that their journey to getting Bucky healthy again is already underway.

They take breaks throughout the bathing so Bucky can drink from the bottle of nutritional shake that Steve had brought into the bathroom. It’s a berry flavor and Bucky seems happy with it. In general, Bucky seems much more alert and there’s a spark back in his eyes that makes him look a lot more like the Bucky Barnes Steve knows and loves.

Steve washes himself too and helps Bucky put on some of Steve’s clothes and puts his dirty clothes into a bag to be thrown out by the housekeeping staff.

Bucky sits on the bed, bouncing lightly and drinking another nutritional shake. “I like—I like this bed. It’s soft.”

Steve grins. “It’s sure better than a mattress stuffed with hay, ain’t it? You remember our old mattresses used to be stuffed with hay? We never had money for a real mattress like these ones.”

Bucky shakes his head, but he seems unconcerned that he doesn’t remember it. “Can we—can we go see Stevie’s face now?”

“Sure.”

Steve takes a small bag stuffed with water, shakes and some food for himself and they head off. He doesn’t tell Bucky where they’re going and Bucky seems happy just walking alongside Steve, talking about whatever topic comes into his head.

He does have a seizure along the way, but Steve catches him and gently guides him down the ground before he hurts himself. Despite Bucky having a headache after that, he perks up when Steve gives him another berry flavored drink.

Steve had tried offering Bucky a chocolate shake, but he hadn’t been surprised when Bucky hadn’t liked it. Not only was it a sign that Bucky wasn’t so hungry anymore, but they’d never had chocolate while growing up. The first time they’d had chocolate was when they’d gotten chocolate bars in their meal rations in the military, but they’d both realized that they were gold as far as trading currency went, and it was much more profitable to keep the chocolate and trade it for other things. As a result, neither of them had ever developed a taste for chocolate.

Once they get to their destination, Steve guides Bucky inside. They need to get to the second floor and Steve would normally ride the escalator upstairs but decides not to risk it with Bucky’s seizures. They take the elevator up and Steve guides Bucky to the start of the exhibit.

They come to a stop before an enormous poster of Steve dressed in his Captain America uniform, saluting. He’d always hated this particular photo since it had been done at a photoshoot as part of his dancing monkey routine.

Bucky stops in front of the photo and his face is blank. He’d been smiling on the elevator, but now the smile is gone and replaced by blankness. He points at the picture. “This—this is the wrong face. It’s the wrong—I don’t like it.”

Steve’s heart aches. “I know. Come on, I’ll show you the right face.”

Thankfully, the exhibit is dark enough and there aren’t a lot of visitors at this time of the morning so with the added cover of his hat being pulled low and Bucky’s hood being up, hopefully they won’t be recognized. The last thing Steve wants is for a crowd to swarm them with questions and confusion. There’s no way he can explain how Sergeant James Barnes went from being presumed dead—and having that beautiful glass display made in his honor—to him walking around with Steve in their own exhibit, 70 years later. Not to mention that the questions would leave Bucky overwhelmed.

Steve takes them to the pre-serum Brooklyn part of the exhibit. Bucky’s eyes immediately catch on Steve’s sketches.

Steve realizes that this whole thing might blow up in his face if Bucky reads the caption below the ‘Peaches’ picture—but his eyes don’t even go down to the little signs below each framed photo. Instead, he’s staring at a sketch of Steve’s ma. Steve had drawn her sitting at their table, knitting and Bucky is sitting on the windowsill, reading.

“I know this! I recognize it!” Bucky bursts out, pointing at it. “I didn’t—I didn’t know—I didn’t remember the first time but now I know it!”

Steve frowns. “You came here before?”

“Uh huh. But there was nothing. Nothing. I—my head—it was nothing. Just blank. No—no memories in my head. She—she was a stranger.” He points at Steve’s ma and gently strokes his fingers over the glass covering the sketch. “I know her. I know,” he says softly.

There’s a lump growing in Steve’s throat. “Who is that?”

“She’s—she’s Mrs. R. She’s Stevie’s ma. She—she’s wonderful.”

“Yeah, she—she was.” Steve clears his throat. “And who’s sitting on the windowsill, reading?”

Bucky’s face lights up. “That’s me! I love reading.”

“Yeah, you do. And who drew this picture?”

“Stevie. Stevie draws real well. Like—like—” He frowns. “I dunno. She said it, but I forgot.”

“Better than Michelangelo, that’s what ma always said.”

“Yeah! Better than Michelangelo! My Stevie is a better artist than Michelangelo.” Bucky shifts over and spies his own shoes in the display. “Hey! There’s my—there’s my shoes! My shoes! I—I was so proud! I paid—they cost a bundle! A real—a bundle.” He puts his right hand on the glass of the display, pushes on it, then frowns when he can’t budge it. “I want—I want my shoes. I want my shoes.”

“No, they gotta stay in there.”

“They’re my—they’re my shoes! I paid a bundle! A bundle! I want my shoes!” Bucky’s yelling now, smacking his hand against the glass and it’s attracting some stares from other museum visitors.

Steve is shocked by Bucky’s outburst but his first priority is to calm the situation before they attract more attention. He darts forward and grabs Bucky’s hand. “Hey! Stop!”

“I want my shoes! They’re—I want—they cost a bundle!”

Grabbing Bucky’s hand, Steve forces him to turn away from the display. “Buck, look at me.”

Bucky glares at him, looking very annoyed. “I want—”

“I know you want your shoes, but they belong to the museum now.”

“They took ‘em! They took my shoes! I ain’t—I—they cost a bundle!”

While Steve agrees with him in principle, agreeing with Bucky might lead to Bucky smashing the display open and taking his shoes, which is a mess they don’t need right now. He needs to distract Bucky as fast as possible. “We’ll make the museum pay us the money for the shoes, okay? But you can’t have those ones. They gotta stay in there.”

Steve’s exhausted and it’s not nice to lie to Bucky, but he’s starting to worry that he doesn’t know how to handle any of this. He finds himself hoping that Bucky will quickly forget about the situation. He knows that’s not a good solution, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s never had to deal with Bucky having such sudden mood swings, and arguing with him is even more difficult than it used to be because he’s not tracking conversations properly. There’s something not clicking right in Bucky’s head and it’s scaring Steve. But he needs to keep it together because he’s all Bucky has so he has no time to be scared. It’s time to focus on the reason for this visit.

Looking around the Brooklyn exhibit, he looks for the photo he needs and sees it close to where the section about the serum starts. It’s a photo that was taken while Steve was at basic training with the other recruits for Project Rebirth. It’s one of the only photographs Steve has ever seen of himself from before the serum. His ma had sketched him a lot, but most of those sketches were done when he was younger. He wants to focus Bucky’s attention on the time period when he’d gotten the serum, so this photo is a good start.

“Come look at this, buddy. You wanted to see Stevie’s old face, right? I’ll show you.”

That attracts Bucky’s attention right away and he eagerly follows Steve, having forgotten all about his shoes. He smiles as soon as he sees the big photo of pre-serum Steve on the wall. “That’s Stevie! Oh, that’s Stevie!” He exclaims, pointing at it.

Steve smiles sadly. “Yeah. That was how Stevie looked, right?”

“Uh huh.” Bucky gently touches Steve’s face in the photo and even brushes his hand through Steve’s bangs as if to brush them aside which is something Bucky had done a million times. “You gotta keep your hair outta your face, Stevie. It’s—it’s—you gotta be looking sharp.”

“Come on. Let me show you how Stevie’s face changed.”

Bucky frowns at him, not liking the sound of that, but he follows Steve as they reach a wall of photos showing the vita-ray machine, Howard Stark and Dr. Erskine. The first time Steve had seen a photo of the doctor, he’d struggled to contain his grief. He hadn’t known the man for long, but he’d been so kind to Steve. His time at training camp had been so lonely and he’d been missing Bucky very much. Having Dr. Erskine there for support and company had meant the world to him. Losing him so suddenly had hurt and Steve knows that his mental state regarding his physical transformation had probably been negatively impacted by the doctor’s death. Having him there for support after the serum would have been wonderful.

But he needs to focus on Bucky. Steve points at the photo showing him standing in line with the other Project Rebirth candidates: a tiny shrimp amid a crowd of enormous, muscular men. “That was before the serum. This man—” Steve points at Dr. Erskine’s photo. “—he told me I could join the military if I participated in an experiment. I got rejected from the military cause I was too small and sick, you remember that?”

Bucky frowns. “You—you—you’re from Paramus now? Pick on someone your own—your own size.” Then his frown clears and he points at Howard’s photo. “I know—I know this man! He had the flying automobile! Holy—holy cow!”

He grins at Steve and Steve smiles. “That’s right! That was at the Expo. But Howard was already helping with the experiment that I volunteered for.”

“Experiment?”

“Uh huh. I was competing with all these big, strong boys,” Steve says, pointing at the photo of him with the recruits again. “And then Dr. Erskine picked me for the experiment.”

Bucky’s back to frowning, listening carefully. Steve hopes he might remember Steve having told him about this, but except for Howard’s photo, Bucky’s face remains devoid of recognition as he studies the other ones Steve points to.

Steve takes him through what happened during the experiment, showing him a photo of himself being strapped into the machine, then a photo of the closed machine, and finally a photo of the open machine with big Steve inside.

Bucky’s eyes widen when he sees the photo of post-serum Steve. “But…you—you went into the machine!”

“Yeah. Small me went in and big me came out. The machine changed my body. That’s why my face looks different now. But I’m still me. I’m still Steve.”

Bucky walks back and forth between the photo of small Steve and big Steve in the machine, studying them intently. Then he stops and stares at an empty spot on the wall, apparently deep in thought. Slowly, he turns and stares at Steve, carefully looking at his face.

Steve stares back at him, not saying anything. He’s desperately hoping that Bucky will put the pieces together because Steve is out of ideas.

Bucky’s mouth falls open a bit and he lifts up a shaking hand and gently touches Steve’s face. He runs his hand all over, his fingers gently skimming over his skin. Then he goes back to the photos and studies them again, leaning closer and frowning intently.

Eventually, he turns and stares at Steve again. “Stevie?” he whispers.

Steve nods. “Yeah. It’s me, Buck.”

“You—you’re really here.” Bucky’s eyes are huge and he looks overwhelmed.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Bucky’s eyes dart around as he seems to struggle to put his thoughts together. “I was always wishing you’d come. I—I was so scared and—and alone and I always—I always hoped you’d come. Please come find me, Stevie. I need help, Stevie. Please hurry, Stevie. I wished so—so hard. But you didn’t come. Then the other Steve was there, but it wasn’t really Steve. I know it wasn’t really Steve, but I wanted—I wanted to believe—I just wanted to believe. But you finally found me. Please come find me, Stevie. I wished so hard and you found me.”

A lump is growing in Steve’s throat and he blinks hard to keep his tears back. “Yeah, I did,” he whispers.

“You—you found me. You found me.”

“I’m just sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”

Bucky gives him a sad smile. “Me too.”

And that’s when Steve’s tears start falling and he wipes them away and clenches his jaw, trying to control himself.

“Are you gonna leave again?” Bucky asks, his voice very faint.

That makes Steve freeze. “Leave? No, never! I promise.”

“Cause I—cause I need. It’s my job to take care of you, but I need—I need—my head ain’t working so good. I think—I gotta—I need some help.”

Steve’s nodding frantically, tears still rolling down his face. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

Bucky smiles, but it’s a tired smile. “Okay. I’m glad, cause I’m tired. I’m so tired.”

“I know you are. You can rest. I’ll take care of everything, I promise.”

“I’m tired of being tired,” he mumbles.

“I know and I’ll help you. That’s my job, ain’t it? We take care of each other.”

Bucky nods. His eyes are slowly roaming over Steve’s body and he frowns. “This—this new—” he flaps a hand at Steve. “This new body is different. I liked hugging the old body. The smaller—the smaller one. But—this one’s big.”

Steve struggles to swallow and takes a shaky breath. “This new one gives good hugs too. If you want one, you can have one.”

Bucky considers the offer, then slowly steps towards Steve and carefully slides his right arm around Steve’s waist. He shifts closer to Steve and tilts his head so his nose is pressed against Steve’s neck, breathing him in. “This new body don’t—it don’t hug real well so far.”

Steve smiles. “I haven’t shown you how good it hugs yet.”

“Then show me.”

He sounds so close to sounding like himself that Steve wraps his arms tightly around him, pulling him close and burying his face into Bucky’s neck.

For the first time since the night before they’d gone to capture Zola, Steve has Bucky in his arms. Bucky’s safe and alive and Steve is never letting anything bad happen to him again, no matter what it takes. Steve lets out the breath he’s been holding since he’d recognized Bucky during their fight on the highway.

Bucky lets out a happy sigh against Steve’s neck. “This new body does give—does give good hugs, pal,” he mumbles.

“You feel okay?”

“Uh hmm. I—”

And then Bucky goes limp in Steve’s arms. Shit. He’s had a seizure. Gently guiding Bucky down to the carpeted floor of the exhibit, Steve hopes Bucky will come out of it before they attract too much attention. He loosens his arms a bit, not knowing if Bucky will remember their conversation once he comes back to himself. But it turns out that he was worried over nothing.

When Bucky blinks his eyes open, he stares around for a bit and catches sight of Steve looking down on him. His face lights up. “Hey, Stevie.”

Steve grins down at him. “Hey, Buck.”

“You found me.”

“That’s right.”

Bucky happily presses his face against Steve’s belly and Steve wraps his arms around him tighter. Bucky makes a pleased sound in his throat. He probably has a headache, but he seems to be feeling good enough that he doesn’t care.

“Sir? Do you need any help?”

Steve glances up at the museum employee who’s staring down at them with concern. “No, it’s alright. He has a medical condition, but he’s fine. He just needs to rest for a few minutes.”

“Do you need us to call an ambulance?”

“No, it’s fine. We just need a few minutes.”

While Steve would love to hold Bucky in his arms for the rest of time, they’re attracting a lot of attention and the more attention they attract, the higher the chances that either of them will get recognized. Bucky doesn’t like high stress situations, so that’s something they need to avoid.

Steve glances down at Bucky. He’s got his eyes closed, but Steve knows he’s not sleeping. Bending down, he rubs his nose against Bucky’s forehead, making Bucky smile.

“Buck, we gotta get up. We’re blocking the way,” Steve whispers.

“I’m comfortable. Real—real comfortable.”

Steve smiles. “I know. And if you want, we can go right back to the hotel and go back to being comfortable, but we can’t do that here.”

Bucky lets out a dramatic sigh that’s so like him that it makes Steve chuckle. “Well, I guess if we gotta.”

“Yeah, we gotta. Come on, pal.”

Helping Bucky up, Steve guides them to the elevator. To Steve’s delight, Bucky winds his right arm around Steve’s waist and grabs his belt loops on Steve’s right side to keep them together. Bucky used to constantly throw his arm over Steve’s shoulders and that’s how they walked everywhere. It seems that Bucky’s compensating for Steve’s new height.

Smiling, Steve gently loops an arm around Bucky’s waist. They’re getting some weird looks from people, but he doesn’t care. Not only is walking like this practical if Bucky has a seizure, but he’s got years of missing Bucky to make up for.


	7. Chapter 7

When they get back to the hotel, Steve gives Bucky a pair of sweatpants and a big sweater, and the smile on Bucky’s face could light up the room. He keeps touching the soft pants and rubbing the fuzzy sleeves on his freshly shaven face, probably enjoying the comfort.

“You wanna try eating some real food, Buck? Maybe you can handle some oatmeal, huh? I’ll get us some.”

Steve sits on his bed to call room service. As soon as he’s sitting, Bucky takes a step towards the bed, but he seems to be hesitating.

Grinning, Steve lowers the phone and slides up so he’s leaning against the headboard and pulls up the pillows behind him. “What are you waiting for, jerk? If you wanna come sit with me, you can.”

Smiling, Bucky hurries over and crawls onto the bed. He stops, staring down at Steve’s body. Then a mischievous grin appears on his face and he lets out an exaggerated sigh and drops onto Steve’s body with a thud. Thankfully, his metal arm just slumps onto the mattress beside Steve, but the rest of Bucky makes direct impact.

Letting out a laugh and an exaggerated grunt, Steve drops the phone on the bed and wraps his arms around Bucky’s back. “You’re taking full advantage of this new body, huh?”

Bucky nods, his face mashed into Steve’s chest and his fingers clutching his shirt. “Uh huh. Gotta—gotta test it out.”

“How did the test go?” Steve asks, rubbing his chin on Bucky’s head.

Bucky’s shifting around, making himself comfortable. He slings a leg over Steve’s legs and wiggles, rubbing his face against Steve’s shirt. “It went great. I—I—I approve.”

“Yeah?” That’s a relief.

“It gives better hugs and I don’t—I don’t gotta worry about squishing it,” he mumbles.

Steve gently rubs his back. “Well, you gotta worry a little bit about squishing it. I ain’t made out of rubber.”

That makes Bucky laugh against Steve’s chest and the sound of his laughter brings a lump to Steve’s throat. He feels whole and happy. He hasn’t felt this way since before the war. “So you wanna try eating something?”

Bucky yawns. “I dunno,” he mumbles.

“Or you wanna sleep?”

“I’m—I’m tired.”

“Okay, go to sleep. You need the blanket?”

Bucky shakes his head, closes his eyes and within minutes, Steve can feel his breathing even out and he’s asleep. It’s not a surprise. Bucky hasn’t been getting good sleep for months and his body needs a lot rest.

Steve grabs his phone and texts Sam before turning the TV on with the sound turned off. He has no idea what he’s watching, but he doesn’t really care. His eyes are constantly drifting down to Bucky sleeping on his chest, looking peaceful and calm.

After a while, Steve really needs to pee, but there’s no way he’s waking Bucky up right now. Instead, he focuses on whatever show is on the television and sends Sam updates. He can’t follow the plot of the television show without the sound on and he wishes there was a way for the television to show him what the people are saying, but he amuses himself by guessing what they’re talking about and seeing how hilariously wrong he is when they do something that’s not in line with what he’d been thinking.

After two shows have passed, Bucky stirs and stretches a bit, snuffling sleepily into Steve’s chest.

Steve smiles down at him. “Hey, Buck. How ya feeling?”

Bucky lets out a happy groan. “I’m real comfortable.”

Rubbing his back, Steve chuckles. “Yeah, I bet. But you wanna move over a second? I gotta pee real bad.”

That makes Bucky frown. He sits up to let Steve swing his legs off the bed, but as soon as Steve is standing up, Bucky is up too, following Steve into the bathroom.

Steve glances at him while he heads to the toilet. “You gotta go too?”

Bucky shakes his head.

Steve smiles. “I wasn’t leaving you, Barnes. I’m just using the toilet.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky mumbles, scratching his nose and staring around the bathroom while Steve takes care of business. Once he’s done, they head back to bed and Bucky makes himself comfortable on Steve again.

“Hey, you hungry?”

Bucky nods eagerly. “Yeah. Do I—do I get another treat? I like those—those drinks.”

“We’re gonna see if your belly is gonna like some oatmeal and other real simple things, okay? I know you like the shakes but you gotta eat real food too.”

Steve knows it’s a risk to feed Bucky solid food when he could have a seizure at any point, but he figures if Bucky eats very small mouthfuls and it’s soft food, they should be okay.

Letting out an annoyed grumble, Bucky pokes Steve in the stomach.

“You can poke me all you want, but I want you to try. We’ll go real slow.”

“It makes—it makes my belly hurt. I don’t like getting sick.”

“I don’t like you getting sick either, so we’ll go real slow. You’ll only eat a little bit and then we’ll see what happens, okay?”

Bucky sighs dramatically. “Okay.”

Leaning down, Steve kisses the top of Bucky’s head like his ma used to when Bucky agreed to cooperate with something he wasn’t really excited about. “Thanks, Buck. You’re a peach.”

That makes Bucky smile and Steve reaches for the phone to call room service and order oatmeal before Bucky can change his mind. When it arrives, he and Bucky go to the door together to bring the tray inside. There are chairs by the small table in the corner, but Bucky makes a face at the chairs and pulls Steve back over to the bed. Steve grabs a few sandwiches from Sam’s duffel bag, as well as the tray and they sit back on the bed.

This time, Steve tries to get Bucky to sit up properly, but Bucky just gives him a cheeky smile and climbs onto Steve’s lap, wrapping himself around Steve and hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder. Except for the metal hand—which is just being dragged along the blanket whenever Bucky moves—he’s covering Steve.

Laughing, Steve tightly wraps his arms around him and rubs his back. “You ain’t five years old, Barnes.”

“Nope,” Bucky agrees, knocking his head against Steve’s.

They sit like that for a while and Steve can’t help the smile that’s permanently stuck on his face now. It feels so good to be holding Bucky. He knows this is about a lot more than just having missed each other. Bucky has always loved physical contact and had spent his entire life touching Steve in some way: hugging him, poking him, slinging his arm around his shoulder, throwing his legs over Steve’s, nudging him with his feet, tickling him. Steve’s ma had also been very physically affectionate towards both of them, so getting a lot of physical contact from the people he loved was normal to him.

Then he’d lost Bucky, along with his entire world and the loss of that daily source of human touch had contributed to his grief. He’d realized quickly that people today aren’t as free with their affection, and physical contact—especially between men—isn’t as accepted as it was back in his day, unless they’re romantically involved and even then, it’s frowned upon by many folks. So no matter how badly he wanted to cling to Sam, he didn’t want Sam to only tolerate it because he pitied Steve. And no matter how much he trusts Sam, he just couldn’t bring himself to talk about any of this with him. It made him feel pathetic.

But now, he not only has Bucky back, but Bucky still seems to love physical contact as much as he ever did and he either doesn’t care or doesn’t even know that their behavior would be seen as strange for two platonic friends. Steve knows that Bucky is probably just as starved for touch as he is, probably even more.

So if Bucky wants to cling to Steve, that’s perfect, because Steve wants to spend the rest of his life clinging to Bucky too. But they do have to eat. “Buck, we gotta get a bit rearranged, okay? You can stay in my lap, but you gotta turn around so we can eat.”

“Okay,” Bucky mumbles against his neck, but makes no effort to move. Steve can feel his grin against his skin.

Grinning, Steve decides to employ a trick his ma used to use when Bucky and Steve were being mischievous and clinging to her before she had to go to work. Tilting over, Steve presses Bucky down onto the bed, leaning his weight on him and framing his head with his arms.

Bucky lets out a delighted laugh and tightens his arm and legs on Steve, apparently remembering how the game goes.

“I think I’ve got a tick on me,” Steve says, grinning down at Bucky.

Bucky’s still laughing, his eyes shining. “I ain’t no tick,” he says, just like he used to when he was eight years old.

Steve frowns down at him and pretends to inspect his face. He gently tugs on Bucky’s ears and his nose and lifts his chin to peer at his neck. “Oh, I think this is a tick alright. It looks just like it.”

Bucky shakes his head. “No. I ain’t look like—look like a tick!” he laughs.

“Well…there’s only one way to tell. Ticks don’t like to be tickled.” He brings his hand down to Bucky’s side and gently tickles him.

Immediately, Bucky starts squirming and laughing, trying to grab for Steve’s hand. Steve is holding himself up with his other hand, so once Bucky manages to grab his roaming hand, Bucky twists himself and manages to roll them over. Steve lets him do it and grins up at Bucky.

Bucky is smiling down at him, holding Steve’s tickling hand in triumph and wiggling on his lap. “Can a tick do—”

And then his eyes roll up and he collapses.

“Shit!” Steve manages to grab him before he falls backwards off the bed and pulls him so he lands on Steve’s chest with a thump. Gently rubbing Bucky’s back, Steve waits for him to come out of it.

It reminds him that while they’re having a wonderful time together, Steve needs to keep focusing on the big picture: getting Bucky medical attention. But to do that, he needs to make Bucky comfortable with the idea of strangers examining him and that’ll take time. As a first step, Steve thinks he should introduce Bucky to Sam to see how Bucky does with a new person.

While he’s thinking, Bucky shifts and comes back to himself.

“It’s okay, Buck. You had another seizure, just relax.”

Steve gently shifts them sideways so they’re lying on their sides on the bed. When Steve looks at him, Bucky looks unhappy.

“You got a headache, huh?”

Bucky nods.

“Okay, I’m gonna go get you some water.” But when Steve starts to shift off the bed, Bucky slings a leg over Steve’s hip and looks upset.

“I want—I—you—I want—I—”

Steve has realized that Bucky tends to have more trouble finding the right words to say when he’s stressed or upset. To reassure him, Steve slumps back onto the bed, making it clear that he’s not going anywhere. Bucky relaxes a bit and that flare of panic fades from his eyes.

“You wanna go get the water together?”

Bucky nods eagerly. “Yeah.”

“Then let’s go.” Getting off the bed, Steve waits for Bucky to slide off and they head into the bathroom. Steve fills one of the glasses from the counter with water and hands it to Bucky, who drains it. As they head back to the bed where their food is waiting, Steve grabs a water bottle from the duffel bag and puts it on the bedside table.

“Alright, Barnes. Let’s eat.”

Steve slides onto the bed and when Bucky starts to climb into his lap again, Steve grins and smacks him lightly on the butt. “You can sit on my lap, but you can’t be leaning on me when we’re eating, okay?”

He’s still worried that Bucky will have a seizure while eating, but Bucky can’t survive on just the shakes so they have to try.

Bucky obediently slides back just enough so there’s some space between them and fiddles with Steve’s shirt while Steve pulls the tray with the food close. “Let’s try the oatmeal first, okay?”

He hands the bowl to Bucky, but Bucky gives him a bashful smile and shakes his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“I want you—want you to do it.”

“What? You want me to try it first?”

Bucky nods. “Uh huh.”

Steve dutifully eats a mouthful of oatmeal under Bucky’s careful gaze. Once he’s swallowed, he holds the bowl out to Bucky again, but Bucky shakes his head. “I want you to do it.”

“I just did. You going blind in your old age? You didn’t see?” Steve says, smiling and gently poking Bucky in the stomach.

Bucky snorts out a laugh and smacks at Steve’s hand, but he still ducking his head and looks shy, which is unusual. He’s not acting like himself, but Sam had drilled it into Steve’s head that Bucky will probably never be the same person he was before the war and it wouldn’t be fair for Steve to expect that. But Bucky hadn’t been acting shy or so childlike when Steve had first encountered him on the street, so Steve guesses this behavior is new. It’s different and a little strange, but Steve can get used to it.

“You don’t wanna eat the oatmeal? You want me to order something else?”

Shaking his head, Bucky mumbles something that Steve can’t hear, a few strands of his hair slipped across his face.

Steve reaches up and brushes the strands behind Buck’s ear. “Say that again, buddy. I didn’t hear you.”

“You said you’d take care of me. You—you promised.”

That’s when Steve gets it. Smiling, Steve nods. “Yeah, I did.”

“And taking care of somebody means—means helping ‘em, don’t it? I—I helped you eat.”

“You sure did, but only when I was real sick.”

“But I’m real sick,” Bucky says with wide eyes. It’s a classic Bucky Barnes move, meant to manipulate people into giving him what he wants. Unfortunately for Bucky, Steve’s been immune to it from day one, but it seems he’s still trying. In addition, Bucky’s still starved for touch and comfort and this childlike behavior is an easy way for him to get Steve to keep touching him and taking care of him. Well, if having Steve feeding him will make Bucky feel better, Steve will do it from now until they’re a hundred years old and anybody who doesn’t like it can go to hell.

“Okay, buddy. We’re gonna go slow.” Steve dips the spoon into the bowl and scoops up half a spoonful of oatmeal.

Bucky’s got a big grin on his face now that he’s getting what he so desperately wanted and opens his mouth when Steve brings the spoon closer and eats the spoonful, chewing happily.

“Good job.”

Bucky grins and opens his mouth again, waiting for his next mouthful.

There’s a sudden shout from the hallway outside—it sounds like a child is yelling and running down the hallway—and Bucky startles and tenses.

“It’s okay, it’s just somebody outside.”

Bucky stares at the door fearfully.

Putting the bowl down, Steve wraps his arms around Bucky and rests his chin on his shoulder. “It’s fine. They ain’t gonna come in. We’re in a hotel remember? There’s always gonna be other people around.”

Right on cue, there’s the exasperated sound of a woman yelling for her son to “Get back here!” and then more running feet as the child returns to her. Bucky looks unhappy with the noises and buries his face into Steve’s shoulder.

Letting Bucky calm down for a few minutes, Steve rubs his back and wonders if he can buy a radio. Bucky might like having some background noise to drown out disturbing noises. Do they still make radios? He has no idea, but that’s a question he’ll have to ask Sam.

Finally, Bucky shifts a bit. “I can—I can eat more oatmeal now.”

Giving him a tight squeeze, Steve kisses his temple and picks the bowl up again as Bucky sits up in his lap. “Great! You’re doing so good. I’m real proud of you.”

After they’ve gone through half the bowl, Steve hands Bucky a berry-flavored nutritional shake to finish his lunch. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Bucky’s stomach again.

When Bucky’s finished drinking his shake, he cuddles up against Steve again, who finishes the bowl of oatmeal and eats one of Sam’s sandwiches. While Bucky nuzzles his chest and fiddles with Steve’s shirt, Steve texts Sam an update.

Sam is thrilled about the oatmeal, but like Steve, he’s waiting to hear how Bucky’s stomach will handle it.

They should really go outside before the sun sets, but Steve doesn’t want to risk Bucky getting sick in public again and creating an awkward situation, so he turns on the television. “Let’s watch some TV, alright? We can find something you like to watch.”

Turning the television on, Steve discovers the channel is replaying one of the episodes he’d watched during Bucky’s nap, which is great! This time, Steve can watch it with the sound and actually know what’s going on.

Bucky glances at the TV with interest, then sits up and makes himself comfortable between Steve’s legs, leaning against this chest.

“You feel good?” Steve asks, rubbing his chin against the top of Bucky’s head.

“Nope,” Bucky says. Before Steve can ask him what else he needs, Bucky takes Steve’s arms one by one and wraps them around him. Steve helps by keeping his arms where Bucky puts them, since Bucky isn’t using his metal arm to help him.

Then Bucky gently elbows Steve in the stomach. “Tighter.”

Steve grins, but keeps his arms loose. “James Buchanan Barnes, I think you lost your manners somewhere along the way. You need help finding ‘em?”

Bucky laughs and tilts his head so he’s looking up at Steve. “Please, please, please, please, please.”

“You can’t just give me a bunch of pleases and have that last for a month, you know. That ain’t how manners work and you know it.”

“Please, can you please do your arms tighter, please?”

Smiling, Steve obediently tightens his arms, which pulls Bucky closer against his chest. On a whim, he throws his legs over Bucky’s so he’s completely wrapped around him.

Bucky’s grinning and his eyes are sparkling. He leans up and kisses Steve on the chin. “Thank you so much! I’ll be forever—forever grateful. I won’t—I won’t ever forget this amazing kind—kindness you’re showing me. I’ll be telling my kids and my grandkids about this day.”

Steve laughs and kisses Bucky’s temple. “Oh, you better. I don’t provide these services to just anybody.”

“I’ll be forever grateful. I won’t ever forget it. Never, ever, ever.”

Bucky’s grinning that mischievous smirk of his and Steve puts on a mock-glare and smacks him on the stomach. “Your gratefulness is interrupting my television watching, Barnes.”

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Very, very, very sorry. I’ll be sorry for the rest of—”

And that’s when Steve puts his hand over Bucky’s mouth. Frowning down at him, Steve uses his hand on Bucky’s mouth to tilt his face this way and that, his eyes skimming over his face. “Hmm…I don’t see where the off-switch is,” he mumbles to himself. “Maybe it’s not on the face? Maybe it’s on the belly?”

When Steve takes his hand from Bucky’s mouth and moves it down to his stomach, Bucky clearly remembers this game from the million times Steve’s ma, his own ma or his pa would do this to get him to stop talking for two seconds and he seems to know more tickling is on the horizon. He grabs Steve’s wandering hand, brings it back to his mouth and mimes locking his lips shut with Steve’s hand while he presses his lips together.

Steve bursts out laughing and Bucky’s laughing too, but he’s keeping his lips pressed together, his eyes shining.

“You’re a goof,” Steve says, wrapping his arms around Bucky again and rocking them back and forth while Bucky keeps laughing.

“But you love me anyway, right?” Bucky asks with a smirk.

Steve smiles and kisses Bucky’s cheek. “I’ll always love you, you jerk.”

“Punk,” Bucky says and Steve’s heart soars.

It doesn’t even matter that Steve’s love for Bucky is a bit different from what Bucky thinks it is. Steve’s always known that Bucky doesn’t feel the same way about him and that’s okay. Steve knows what it’s like to lose this wonderful man and that was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Being with Bucky like this is the most amazing thing in the world. Being with Bucky in a more intimate way would be the icing on the cake, but Steve knows what it’s like to not have that cake at all, so he’s happy and grateful just to have the cake.

Bucky turns to the television and they watch in silence for a few minutes. The sound is still off so Steve reaches for the remote and turns the volume back on. Hearing what the actors are saying allows Steve to figure out right away what’s going on. He opens his mouth to start telling Bucky about it, but he feels Bucky tense and twitch in his arms. “Buck? You okay?” Steve tilts a bit sideways so he can see Bucky’s face.

Bucky’s frowning, blinking rapidly and he’s very tense. “I’ll—I’ll—I don’t—it’s—I—it’s too—”

Steve grabs the remote and turns off the television. “Take your time.”

“I—It’s too—I—you—” He’s breathing very rapidly.

Steve rubs Bucky’s belly and gently rocks them back and forth. “It’s okay. Give yourself a few minutes to calm down and the words will come.”

Well, he hopes his words will come. He keeps rubbing Bucky’s stomach and Bucky’s pressing himself harder against Steve’s chest, so Steve keeps his arms and legs tight around him. Gradually, the tension drains out of Bucky and his breathing calms down.

“Wait until you’re ready and then tell me what happened, okay? We don’t ever gotta watch television again if you don’t wanna, but I gotta know what happened so I can make sure it don’t happen again.”

Bucky nods and they stay quiet for a while until he’s completely calmed down. “It was too much,” Bucky mumbles.

“Too much what?”

“There was too much—” Bucky lifts a hand out from the circle of Steve’s arms and waves it around a bit, as if that’s helping to express what he means.

“Was it too much noise? Too loud?”

Bucky makes a face. “It ain’t just the noise. It was the picture too. It was moving too quick and there was too much going on. It—it looked confusing and it made me panic and all those sounds made it worse.”

“How you feeling now?”

“It’s okay now. I don’t—I don’t like it. You can watch it if you wanna, but I don’t—I don’t like it.”

Steve squeezes Bucky tight and kisses his temple. “I’m okay not watching the television. I wanna do what makes you happy. You want me to call the front desk and ask for a set of cards?”

Bucky makes a face. “No. I—I don’t—I know I won’t be able to concentrate.”

“You wanna go for a walk?”

“I don’t want—I don’t want too many people. If there ain’t too many people, then okay. But I don’t want too many—too many people. It’s too—too much. It makes my head go weird.”

Steve glances at the clock. It’s close to rush hour, which means the streets around them will be full of people and cars which is exactly what Bucky doesn’t need right now. It’s strange because Bucky used to love being surrounded by activity. The more people, the more excitement, the more action surrounded him, the happier he was. Steve had always felt like an awkward outsider—despite Bucky’s attempts to include him—so while Steve got accustomed to being in those settings, he’d never loved it like Bucky had. Maybe this is another change that Steve will have to get used to. “We can go to a park. We’d have to take a taxi, but the park will be quiet.”

Bucky makes a face again. “Can we—can we just stay inside for today?”

“Sure. How about we wake up early tomorrow and we can walk around before everybody’s up? Then it’ll be quiet.”

Bucky smiles and relaxes against Steve. “Okay.”

“Hey, how’s your stomach feeling?”

“It’s good. It don’t hurt.”

“You wanna try eating something else?”

“I want another yummy thing. The white kind.”

“They’re nutritional shakes. The white is the vanilla and the pink one is a berry one.”

“Uh huh. I want a vanilla.”

Steve smiles. “Of course you do, Mister Sweet-Tooth. How about I get us some eggs and you eat some of that before the shake?”

Bucky makes a bit of a face. “I don’t want my belly hurting again. I—I don’t—I don’t like getting sick.”

“I don’t want you getting sick either, but you did good with the oatmeal, right? We gotta get you used to real food again.”

Bucky makes another face, but then sighs dramatically. “Okay, fine. But if I—if I get sick, I’m blaming you.”

“You do that.” Reaching for the phone, Steve orders some scrambled eggs and a few slices of plain toast. Unfortunately, the knock on the door scares Bucky again, but Steve manages to get him distracted with the idea of new food having arrived. Sliding off the bed, Steve heads towards the door, Bucky trailing after him despite looking wary about the situation.

Unfortunately, within seconds of being upright, Bucky has a seizure and Steve barely manages to grab him and direct his fall onto the bed.

“Just a second!” Steve calls towards the door, kneeling on the bed next to Bucky and waiting for him to come around.

When Bucky blinks his eyes open, Steve gives him a soft smile. “Hey, buddy. You had a seizure.”

Bucky frowns at Steve and looks confused. He’s blinking very slowly and startles when another knock comes from the door.

Steve curses under his breath. “Just leave the tray outside the door, please! I’ll get it in a second,” he calls out.

Bucky looks scared and he’s looking back and forth between the door and Steve. “What—what—I—what’s—”

Steve gently squeezes Bucky’s hand and goes to stroke Bucky’s face with his other hand, but Bucky jerks back from him and ends up falling off the bed and scrambles away from Steve until he hits the bedside table, the metal arm dragging along beside him.

“Who—who—who are you?” He sounds angry.

Shit. “Buck, it’s me. It’s Stevie, remember? I—”

“You stole his voice! You—you stole—!” Bucky’s getting angrier by the second, glaring at Steve from the floor.

Holding up his hands, Steve stays where he is. “I’m Stevie and I can prove it.”

“You! You—I—you don’t know—”

Steve has no idea if seeing pictures of pre-serum Steve will help Bucky right now or if would just cause more confusion. It would be best if he could snap his fingers and get the museum exhibit to appear in their hotel room, but that’s not an option.

Desperate for a solution, Steve decides to use the argument he used before. “If I’m not really Steve, then I wouldn’t know things that only Stevie knows, right?”

Bucky glares at him, shaking.

“I know what ma used to sing to us when I was sick. You remember? She’d sing us the star song and we loved it so much, even though it was for little kids. But when I was sick and you were scared, we loved hearing it, even when we were teenagers.”

Bucky’s glare softens a bit and he frowns, listening.

Not knowing what else to do, Steve starts singing the song. It’s the first time he’s sung it since he was a teenager, but the familiar words come to him without even trying.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are,” he sings, his voice wavering a bit from the stress of the situation. Not wanting to upset Bucky, he keeps his voice soft and low as he sings. “Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky.”

He pauses, staring at Bucky, whose eyes have widened when Steve had started to sing.

“I know—I know that song,” he mumbles.

“I know you do.”

“Mrs. R always—she always sang it when Stevie was sick.”

“When I was sick, yeah. Cause I’m Stevie, remember? I got the serum. The serum made me—”

“Sing more! The—you—Stevie knows—Stevie knows the whole—the whole thing.” Bucky still looks suspicious.

Steve launches into the second verse, singing softly. “When this blazing sun is gone, when he nothing shines upon, then you show your little light, twinkle—”

“Twinkle, twinkle through—through the night,” Bucky mumbles, finishing the verse. He’s not singing, but Steve feels a rush of relief at hearing that he remember the words and apparently trusts Steve enough to join in.

Steve grins. “That’s right! Good job, Buck.”

Moving slowly, Steve sits down across from Bucky, but leaves enough space that Bucky can get away from him if he wants to. Hoping that Bucky will remember what they’d seen in the museum that morning, Steve decides to jog his memory a bit. “I went into the machine and it made me big. You saw the pictures in the museum this morning. Little me went into the machine and I came out big. But I’m still Stevie.”

Bucky frowns and his eyes dart every which way.

Thinking that Bucky needs more time to think, Steve decides to sing the third verse. “Then the traveller in the dark…” he sings softly, pausing a bit after each line to give Bucky a chance to jump in, if he wants to. “Thanks you for your tiny spark…”

“He could—he could not see where—where to go…” Bucky mumbles quietly, a bit of a melody coming through with the words. It sounds like he’s trying to sing, but his voice is scratchy and faint, as if he can’t quite do it right. When the line is done, he stops and stares expectantly at Steve, who picks up the last line.

He sings a little louder, still keeping the tone gentle. It reminds him of how his ma used to sing to them when he was sick. “If you did not twinkle so.”

Bucky shoots him a tired grin and looks around in confusion. “Why am I sitting on the—on the floor?”

Thank God! Feeling a rush of relief, Steve tries to stay calm. “You had a seizure and then you got confused for a little while.”

“We sang the star song.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“But we didn’t finish it.”

“No. You wanna finish it or go get our food?”

Bucky grins. “I wanna finish it. But wait!” He crawls over the floor and climbs into Steve’s lap. “Okay, now you can finish it.”

“You gonna help me, jerk? I ain’t doing all the work around here.” Steve wraps his arms tightly around Bucky and kisses the side of his head.

Bucky giggles and starts out the next verse, his voice still shaky and faint. “In the dark blue sky you keep…” It’s a far cry from the rich, velvety sound Steve is used to hearing from him, but just the fact that he’s singing and getting the words right fills Steve with joy.

When his voice trails off, he pokes Steve in the side. Knowing that’s his cue, Steve picks up the next line. “And often through my curtains peep…”

“For you—for you never shut your eye…”

“Til the sun is in the sky.”

By the time they’re done singing the final verse, Bucky is again relaxed and happy in Steve’s arms.

“You wanna go get our food together?”

“Okay.” Bucky scrambles off Steve’s lap, stands up and waits until Steve is standing before Bucky leads the way to the door.

Once they’re back on the bed, Steve asks Bucky if he’d like to eat by himself, but Bucky gets uncharacteristically shy again and shakes his head, so Steve helps him drink water and feeds him the eggs and one little bit of toast a little bit at a time.

After drinking the promised vanilla shake for dessert, Bucky plasters himself onto Steve. He lets out happy snuffles and plays with Steve’s shirt while Steve eats and texts Sam with one hand and rubs Bucky’s back with the other.

In the middle of Steve eating, Bucky falls asleep, so he stays as still as he can, letting Bucky rest.

After an hour, Bucky wakes up again and demands another shake—but he wants a berry one this time—and while he’s drinking, Steve is left wondering what they should do next. It’s already dusk and Steve has no desire to go out and deal with traffic and people in the dark when Bucky has just calmed down. They’ll go outside tomorrow.

But it’s too early for them to call it a night and Steve glances around for something to do. He doesn’t have any games, television watching isn’t an option and Bucky would probably find the computer just as overwhelming as the television. There’s a pen and a small pad of paper on the table, but he hates sketching in pen and he might not be able to hide his frustration from Bucky. He’ll have to get some decent sketching supplies again, but that doesn’t solve his problem for today.

His eyes finally land on the little e-reader that Sam had bought him a few weeks ago. Steve knows he could read books on his computer, but he still finds the machine a little intimidating, so Sam had surprised him with the small e-reader. It’s the size of a book, which is much nicer than the big computer and it’s very easy to use. He’d been amazed to discover that he can get any book he wants and they cost next to nothing.

And he knows somebody else who used to be love reading. It’s worth a try. “Hey, Buck?”

“Hmm?”

“You wanna read something? Or you want me to read to you?”

That makes Bucky sit half-way up. “You got—you got books?”

“Kinda.” Steve points at the e-reader on the desk. “That little machine there has any book we want on it.”

Bucky chews on his lip. “It ain’t like—like the television?”

“No, don’t worry. You don’t even gotta look at it, I’ll just get whatever book you want and read it to you.”

“Okay.” They get off the bed and Bucky follows Steve as he grabs the e-reader and they organize themselves on the bed again.

Steve turns it on and glances at Bucky while it powers up. “You got any preferences on what we read?”

“Can we—can we read something I remember?”

“Sure!” Steve does a quick search for children’s books that were published in the 1920s and finds a list. He skims through it and identifies some titles Bucky had read before. They’d always shared books when they were younger, or Bucky would read to Steve. Even if Steve was busy, Bucky would always tell him about what he was reading. “You wanna do the Doctor Dolittle story? I know you liked that one.”

Bucky frowns. He considers it before shaking his head. “I don’t remember that one. Maybe later.”

“Okay…oh! How about the Johnny Town-Mouse story? You remember that one? There’s two mice and one of ‘em lives in the house and the other lives in the garden?”

Bucky grins. “It sounds familiar. Let’s do that one.”

Steve buys the story and once it’s downloaded, he tilts the screen so the light won’t bother Bucky and keeps his other arm around Bucky’s back.

“Alright, here we go.” He clears his throat and launches into the story. “Johnny Town-Mouse was born in a cupboard. Timmy Willie was born in a garden. Timmy Willie was a little country mouse who went to town by mistake in hamper. The gardener sent vegetables to town once a week by carrier; he packed them in a big hamper...”

It’s so bizarre to be reading a story out-loud that he remembers Bucky having read to him many years ago. He can still picture them sitting on their bed in their apartment, but it had been Steve who had been resting on Bucky’s chest, listening to Bucky read.

Bucky’s eyes are closed, but he’s smiling. Steve doesn’t know if he’s actually listening to the story or just likes to hear Steve’s voice, but he’s relaxed and seems to be feeling good and that’s what’s most important.


	8. Chapter 8

When they’re done reading the next story, Steve has another sandwich and Bucky drinks two more shakes. They head to the bathroom and at Bucky’s insistence, Steve brushes Bucky’s teeth for him and brushes his hair, then does his own and they get changed into pajamas for the night.

Unlike last night, Bucky doesn’t even glance at the other bed and immediately burrows under the covers of Steve’s bed. Once Steve is lying down, Bucky cuddles up against him, rubbing his face against Steve’s pajama top and slinging his leg over Steve’s.

“You comfortable, Buck?”

“Uh huh.”

Pulling the blanket up around them, Steve wraps his arms around Bucky and kisses his temple. “Wake me up if you need to use the toilet or if you can’t sleep, okay?” He brushes a strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear.

“Okay. Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

“You won’t let go?”

Steve tightens his arms around him, feeling the heat of Bucky’s body against his own. “No, don’t worry.”

“Okay. Stevie?”

“Yup?”

“I love you.”

For a second, Steve’s heart seizes up. He wishes Bucky meant those words in a different way, but he quickly shakes those thoughts loose. Just the fact that Bucky trusts him enough to be so affectionate with him again is a reason to be happy. “I love you too, Buck.”

“Okay. Stevie?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you sing me the—the star song?”

Steve smiles and kisses Bucky’s temple. “Of course I can.”

Bucky lets out a happy sound.

“Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are,” Steve sings quietly, feeling Bucky breathing against his chest. “Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky…”

* * *

Bucky must be less exhausted than he was the previous night because he does fall asleep, but he tenses and jerks awake a few minutes later when a car honks outside. There had been similar noises the previous night but Bucky must have been too exhausted to hear them.

“It’s just a car, Buck. Just city noises. You know what it’s like living in the city.”

Looking unhappy about it, Bucky manages to calm down and go back to sleep—only to be startled awake again a few minutes later when a group of people pass by on the street outside, talking and laughing loudly.

The street isn’t the only source of disturbing noises, since the hotel might be quieter at night but Steve can still hear the faint sound of somebody watching television, occasionally people walk down the hallway and there’s the random rattle of dishes as meal carts are pulled around by the staff.

None of these sounds had ever bothered Steve. Living with constant noise is something he got accustomed to while growing up in a city. But while Bucky may have grown up in the same environment, it seems that he’s a lot more sensitive to such noises now. He keeps startling awake at the slightest noise and Steve follows him into wakefulness moments later, having felt Bucky shifting.

As the night wears on and none of the noises translate into anything hurting him, it becomes easier to calm Bucky down, but he’s still torn out of sleep by each sound.

* * *

“Buck, I know you can wash yourself. You did most of it by yourself yesterday, remember?”

Bucky shrugs and smiles shyly, staring down at the bath water and foam bubbles that surround him in the tub. “I—I know. But I want you to—to do it,” he mumbles.

Steve smiles. “How about I do one side and you do the other?”

Bucky shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. “Uh uh. I want you to do it. You—you take care of me. You promised. Please?”

And Steve can’t say no to that and takes off his clothes in case he gets soaked again. “Alright, let’s get you clean, Barnes.”

Once they’re both washed and shaved, Steve gets Bucky into new clothes—because Bucky wanted Steve to help get him dressed—and they head out for a walk. It’s an early Saturday morning and the sun has just come up so the streets are practically empty.

They walk with their arms around each other’s waists and keep a tight grip on each other’s belt loops. Bucky does it for comfort and Steve does it so he’ll be able to hold onto Bucky if he has a seizure. Bucky doesn’t like walking on the sidewalk and finds it difficult to focus with the cars and people rushing by. It’s too early for rush hour, so the traffic is a lot less than what Steve’s used to, but the tension in Bucky’s body and unhappy frown on his face make it clear that he doesn’t like it. Once they reach the nearby park, the noise of the traffic is further away and there are very few people around, which makes Bucky relax a bit more.

They wander around and stop on a park bench to eat breakfast—Bucky eats a plain cheese sandwich that Steve had ordered for him before they left, as well as drinking two shakes—and they walk back to the hotel.

Steve stops at the front desk and asks for some pencils and a stack of paper. When they’re back in their room, they change into comfortable sweatpants and baggy sweaters and curl up together in bed.

They spend the rest of the day relaxing with Bucky alternating between napping, eating—he eats a salad and another cheese sandwich for lunch—and asking Steve to sketch certain things or listening to Steve reading to him. Before he naps, he always asks to be sung the star song and Steve is happy to comply.

Bucky has a few seizures during the day, but Steve’s noticed that they happen more frequently if Bucky’s sitting or standing up, so spending a lot of time lying on the bed helps cut down on the number of seizures he has.

Steve texts Sam updates throughout the day and Sam is happy that Bucky’s eating has improved, but he’s not very happy that Bucky had refused to bathe himself or dress himself that morning. He thinks Steve should have pushed him about it a little, but Steve brushes aside those concerns. Being taken care of is making Bucky feel good and that’s what’s most important. And if Steve is being honest, then he’ll admit that taking care of Bucky makes him feel good too, so the situation has no downsides.

But there is something that’s worrying Steve, and when he tells Sam about Bucky’s sensitivity to noises, Sam suggests giving Bucky a music player that he can use when he’s sleeping or walking in noisy areas.

Rolling his eyes, Steve texts him back and tells him he doesn’t think Bucky can sleep while hugging a radio, which Sam completely ignores. Instead, Sam tells him he’ll take care of it. Steve has no idea what that means, but about an hour later, Sam texts him to go down to the front desk.

When he and Bucky wander down, the front desk agent tells him that Sam had left him a present. Bucky is clinging to Steve and he’s unhappy with the hustle and bustle of activity in the front lobby, so Steve grabs the package and gets them back upstairs as fast as possible.

Once they’re in their room and curled up in bed, Steve lets Bucky help with the unwrapping, and then they’re both left staring at the small, square-shaped electronic device in Steve’s hand. There’s a coiled-up set of wires that Steve knows is a set of earphones—he’s used similar ear devices on SHIELD missions—but he has no idea how the small electronic thing is meant to work.

“Why would Sam get you a present you don’t know how—how to use?” Bucky mumbles, taking the little device and turning it over in his hand.

“I think Sam’s gonna tell me how to use it when I call him. Do you mind if I call Sam?”

Bucky makes a face. “Is—is it gonna be loud?”

“Nah. I’ll talk to him on my phone and you won’t hear it.”

“Okay.”

Bucky stays curled up against Steve’s side while Steve calls Sam and finds out what this little device is.

“It’s a music player,” Sam says. “I’ve loaded some music on there that Bucky might enjoy and I’ll show you how you can—”

Steve gapes at the little device. “This is a music player?!” Bucky frowns and stares at the device suspiciously.

Sam laughs. “Yeah. Everything’s digital now, remember? Just like your emails. They can fit on tiny devices.”

That makes Steve feel guilty. “You didn’t have to buy me this, Sam! It must have cost a lot of money.”

“I haven’t used it in years. Most people listen to music on their phones now, so this has been sitting in my kitchen drawer for years. Let me teach you how to turn it on and you can check through the music lists and Bucky can see what he likes. Later, I’ll teach you how to add new music to it.”

Once Steve has figured out how to plug in the earphones, he puts in one of the earphones and keeps Sam and the phone on his other ear. Using the music player isn’t complicated and Steve scrolls through the songs.

“Can I listen?” Bucky asks, having sat up. He’s looking at the music player with interest.

“Let me check the songs over first. I don’t want you getting scared.”

There’s an eight hour audio file of rain sounds, followed by an eight hour audio file of strange static noise which Sam calls ‘white noise’ and reassures him it has the effect of drowning out other noises but many people stop registering the noise itself after a while. He’d also included lists of classical music and other calm music that Bucky might enjoy.

Steve can’t stop smiling as he scrolls through the music. “This is wonderful, Sam. Thank you.”

Bucky’s smiling, looking excited too. He hasn’t heard any of the music yet, but he leans close to Steve’s phone. “Thank you, Sam. It’s real swell that you—that you put all that music on it for me.”

Steve had held the phone a little away from his ear and he holds it out towards Bucky so he can hear Sam’s responding “You’re welcome, buddy!”. After hanging up with Sam, Steve shows Bucky how to use the music player.

There’s no video and as long as Bucky scrolls slowly, it’s no more disturbing than the e-reader. Selecting the rain music, Bucky sticks the ear phones on and presses play. A big smile lights up on his face and he glances around. “I can’t—I can’t hear nothing but rain!” he says, his voice louder than normal.

Steve laughs. “That’s great.”

“Huh?”

Rolling his eyes, Steve raises his voice and gives him a thumbs up. “I said ‘That’s great!’”

* * *

A week later, they’ve settled into an easy routine. Bucky has slowly included more variety into his diet and he’s started eating chicken. The slow pace is allowing his stomach to keep up and with the help of the serum and the small portions, he’s almost back to eating regular food all the time.

He’s still drinking several nutritional shakes during the day and he’s already put on some badly needed weight. His ribs don’t stick out as much anymore and his face has filled out a bit too. Sam had warned him that the shakes have a high sugar content and shouldn’t be used once Bucky’s back to eating normal food, but Bucky loves them and he still has plenty of weight to re-gain so Steve decides he’s allowed to have several each day.

As the week goes on, Bucky seems to feel more and more comfortable with his surroundings. He’s happy, relaxed and loves spending hours cuddled up against Steve and listening to him read or watching him sketch. Bucky’s happiest when Steve is touching him—the more often, the better.

Bucky’s sleeping through the night now, thanks to the music player. He’d discovered which songs are his favorites, which ones are good for sleeping and which ones are his ‘walking outside’ songs. They’ve discovered that Bucky’s fine with being outside at any time except rush hour. If the sidewalks only have small crowds and his music is drowning out the traffic on the street, he can handle going for walks multiple times during the day.

Despite the good news, there are some things that either don’t improve or actually get worse.

The seizures are still happening and Bucky’s memory lapses and stuttering are also still occurring, which always remind Steve that he needs to move forward with getting Bucky professional help. Getting food, rest and comfort can go a long way to helping Bucky heal, but Sam reminds him all the time that none of that will help with Bucky’s seizures or other brain-related traumas. His seizures are less frequent because he spends a lot of time lying down and Steve’s eliminated every possible stressful situation from Bucky’s environment, which is good and allows him to eat solid food without Steve stressing over him having seizure while swallowing something, but the seizures are still happening.

Unlike Bucky, Steve gets less relaxed and more worried as the days go by. He and Bucky spend 24 hours a day together, which doesn’t bother Steve one bit, but it’s not healthy. Even when they were children, they hadn’t spent all their time together, regardless of what jokes people used to make about them being joined at the hip. Bucky had lived at the Rogers apartment more than his own and even though they were involved in almost every aspect of each other’s lives, they still did some things separately.

Bucky’s clinginess isn’t normal and it’s starting to worry Steve. Some of Bucky’s behavior can be attributed to him being starved for physical contact, which is fine. But what’s not fine is that Bucky is making zero effort at being independent. He still wants Steve to feed him, dress him, bathe him, brush his hair, shave him and brush his teeth.

It’s troubling because Steve knows that Bucky can do all those things himself. Now that Bucky’s gotten stronger, he’s not dragging the metal arm around anymore so Steve can’t blame the extra weight from the metal arm for Bucky’s refusal. The metal arm is a whole other problem, since Bucky refuses to use it for anything other than pushing himself up to a standing position and raising it when Steve’s dressing him, but that issue is less concerning than the bigger problem of Bucky’s refusal to be independent.

Bucky’s refusal also isn’t related to a memory issue. He’ll tell Steve when it’s time for him to eat or have a bath or when he needs his music player and which song to select, so he’s clearly aware that those things are part of his routine and he knows where to go and what to expect when any of these things happen. He just doesn’t want to do them himself.

Steve has tried gently encouraging him, but all Bucky has to do is give him that shy smile and remind Steve of his promise to take care of Bucky—and Steve melts like an ice cream on the Brooklyn pavement in midsummer.

Sam has gently brought this topic up a few times, but after Steve had told him he doesn’t think it’s a big deal, he’d dropped it. But now, Steve brings it up again. Bucky’s recovery has stalled and while Steve would be happy spending the rest of his life living exactly the way they’re living now—Steve’s got everything he needs right here—he knows Bucky can do better than this.

He’s been discussing the situation with Sam while Bucky naps on his chest. Another positive change from having the music player is that Bucky likes to keep it turned up loud enough that Steve can have quiet phone conversations with Sam while Bucky is only inches away from him, but can’t hear them.

Steve doesn’t feel comfortable talking about Bucky’s various issues while Bucky refuses to engage in the discussion, but he needs to find a way to make Bucky move forward. “I don’t know what to do about it,” he quietly says to Sam.

He hears noises in the background from Sam cooking dinner after having come home from work. Dishes are rattling and something’s sizzling. “I know you don’t and nobody expects you to know how to handle the situation. That’s why Bucky needs professional help.”

Steve makes a face. “I know he needs help for the seizures, but he knows how to take care of himself. He ain’t a baby. I don’t want these professionals thinking he’s dumb if we tell ‘em Bucky ain’t eating on his own.”

He glances down at Bucky with concern, hoping he hadn’t heard Steve. But as usual, Bucky is fast asleep on his chest with some of his hair flopped over his cheek and the ear buds in his ears. Steve’s hands itch to brush the hair off his face, but he doesn’t want to risk waking him for such a silly reason.

“Nobody will think he’s dumb,” Sam tells him. “Especially not medical professionals who deal with traumatic brain injury patients all the time. Bucky’s comfortable with his routine and he doesn’t realize that this behavior will cause him problems in the long term, that’s all.”

It’s really not complicated, which is why it’s frustrating that Bucky refuses to change his behavior on his own. “I’ve tried explaining it to him, but he won’t listen.”

Sam chuckles warmly. “Of course not. He doesn’t need to listen because he knows you’ll give in.”

That annoys Steve. At the very last second, he remembers to keep his voice low. A bit of his annoyance seeps into his words, but they’re quiet enough not to wake Bucky. “This ain’t my fault! I’m trying my best!”

“I know you are and that’s exactly why Bucky needs professional help. You don’t wanna be the bad guy and push Bucky and that’s fine. Let the professionals be the bad guys and push him. That’s their job. You can be the comforting ear who listens to him rant. His recovery will be back on track and he won’t be upset with you.”

Steve sighs and looks down at Bucky, who’s still snoring softly on his chest. In the silence, Steve can hear the calm music coming from this ear phones. “So where’s this rehab center? When can we go?”

Sam pauses before answering, which tells Steve that he won’t like the answer. “The nearest one is in Virginia, one and a half hours away. But Steve…you can’t go with him.”

Steve blinks and that anger flares to life again. This time, he forgets to keep his voice low. “What the hell do you—” Bucky stirs on his chest and Steve snaps his mouth shut. Blinking at him sleepily, Bucky frowns unhappily at having been woken up.

Steve gently touches Bucky’s face, brushing his hair back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

Closing his eyes, Bucky rubs his face against Steve’s shirt, adjusts the ear buds and his breathing evens out again. Then Steve focuses back on his phone. “What the hell do you mean I can’t go with him?! Buck ain’t going to a strange place without me,” he whispers furiously. “Why can’t I go with him?”

“You know the answer to that. He’ll cling to you and make you do the things he should be doing. You know the second he gets upset or doesn’t want to do something, you’ll either do it for him or you’ll grab him and walk straight out of the center.”

Steve snorts quietly. Well, that’s obvious. “If somebody’s upsetting Bucky, then they’ve got no right to be around him.”

“What if they’re upsetting him because they’re pushing him to brush his teeth on his own? Or take seizure medication? Or learn how to use that metal arm of his?”

That makes Steve look at it in a whole new way. This whole thing is more complicated than he thought it would be. Sam’s right. If Steve’s there with Bucky, he couldn’t handle seeing Bucky get upset. His love for Bucky and his desire to protect him from any uncomfortable situations would force Steve to be on Bucky’s side, which won’t help Bucky’s recovery. He sighs quietly. “I’d be protecting him but really, I’d be hurting him in the long run, wouldn’t I?”

“Yeah. I know that would be a really hard position to be in, which is why loved ones shouldn’t be at these rehab centers all the time. You can be the comforting voice on the other end of the phone and you can visit and marvel at his progress, but you don’t need to be pulled in two directions every single day. The facility staff have training on how to deal with these situations and they’re not as emotionally compromised when it comes to the patients.”

Steve snorts softly and stares down at Bucky, who’s back to snoring softly. “Bucky Barnes has been emotionally compromising me for 30 years.”

Then Steve has to cover the phone with his hand because he’s afraid that Sam’s loud laughter will wake Bucky up again.

* * *

Convincing Bucky that going to the rehab center will be good for him doesn’t go well.

At all.

Bucky frowns at Steve, shakes his head and says no.

“Buck, you don’t really got a choice. You gotta go. Your seizures ain’t gonna get better on their own and it ain’t good for you to be having these seizures all the time.”

Bucky waves a dismissive hand at him and goes to lie down on Steve again, but Steve grabs his arm and keeps him sitting upright. “No, listen to me. The seizures are the biggest problem, but they ain’t the only one. The people at this center can help you get better with everything.”

“I’m good—I’m good with everything. I don’t need—don’t need nothing from ‘em.”

“They can help you with the stuttering and they can help you learn how to take of yourself.”

Bucky’s still frowning, but now he’s starting to look upset. “You—you—take care of me. We take care—we take care of each other. That’s how we do things.”

Steve gently grabs Bucky’s face and rubs his cheeks with his thumbs. “I know, but sometimes other people had to help us, right? Like when I had to go to the hospital whenever I got real sick? I didn’t wanna go, but you knew I needed the doctors and nurses to help me. You knew you couldn’t make me healthy on your own so you took me to the hospital.”

“But...you can make me healthy by yourself. You can—you can do that. I know you can.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, I can’t. I wish I could, but I can’t. You’ve gotten so much better since I found you, right? You’re eating better, you’re not so tired and you’re feeling better. But I can’t help with the other things. You gotta go to the rehab center where the doctors and nurses can help you.”

Now Bucky looks scared and he’s shaking his head frantically. “I don’t—I don’t—I—you—I wanna—it’s—you—I wanna—”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” Steve says softly and pulls him into his arms. “Take a deep breath and wait for the words to come.”

Bucky’s shaking in his arms and clinging to his shirt. “I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna—don’t—you said—I—you said—I—”

Steve gently rocks them back and forth and kisses Bucky’s head. His heart is aching and he nearly starts promising Bucky that he doesn’t have to go. It’s instinct to stop this pain for Bucky, but he catches himself. This is exactly what Sam told him would happen. Bucky does have to go and Steve will be hurting him in the long run if he allows his heart to change his mind. But he knows Bucky won’t calm down until Steve’s removed some parts of this fear. “It’s okay. We ain’t going today, I promise.”

“I don’t—you—you promised—I don’t—you—I—”

Squeezing Bucky tight, Steve presses his head against Bucky’s. “Today we’re just gonna have a normal day, okay? You want me to sketch something for you? Or do we wanna keep reading the Emily Moon story? You liked that one.”

Bucky is clinging to Steve and still shaking. “You won’t—you won’t go?”

“I ain’t going nowhere today, I promise.”

“No—no—no hospital?”

“Not today, I promise.”

“Not ever,” Bucky demands.

Steve has to proceed carefully. He doesn’t want to lie to Bucky, but he can’t allow his heart to hurt Bucky’s long-term recovery. “Not today. Maybe tomorrow we’ll talk about it again, but not today.”

Bucky pulls back and glares at him, looking close to tears. “I don’t wanna go. You promised you’d—you’d take care of me.”

“And you won’t go today. We ain’t going nowhere today. Let’s focus on one day at a time, okay? Come on, let’s keep reading about Emily and her adventures on New Moon Farm. You like Teddy, remember? He draws just like I do.”

Before Bucky can keep making demands that Steve can’t agree to, Steve leans over, grabs the e-reader from the bedside table and turns it on. He leans against the pillows stacked against the headboard and spreads his legs, patting the space between them in invitation.

“Come on, Barnes. Time to get back to Emily.”

Bucky frowns at him suspiciously, but he does crawl close to Steve. But instead of sitting between Steve’s legs, Bucky crawls into Steve’s lap and wraps his arm around his neck, clinging to him tightly.

Wrapping one arm around Bucky’s back, Steve shifts the e-reader so he can use it with one hand and starts reading out-loud, rubbing Bucky’s back and feeling Bucky breathing against his neck, tense and unhappy.

* * *

The conversation about the rehab center goes just as badly the next day when Steve tries again. Bucky immediately dissolves into panic and anger, accusing Steve of wanting to abandon him and breaking his promise to take care of him.

The only thing that’s close to breaking is Steve’s heart and he calls Sam while Bucky’s napping, asking for help.

Following Steve giving him permission, Sam gets in touch with the staff at the rehab center and fills them in on Bucky’ situation. He also asks one of the staff members who would be part of Bucky’s care team if she’s willing to come out to DC to meet Bucky. Sam will come too and hopefully, the two of them will have better luck at calming Bucky’s fears and maybe convincing him that this is for his own good.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, Steve gets an email from a woman named Alisha, who works at the rehab facility and she’ll be in charge of Bucky’s care team if he chooses to come to the clinic. She introduces herself and tells him she didn’t want to call him out of the blue because she understands how upsetting that would be for Bucky but she wanted to talk to Steve and exchange some information.

She’s included a lot of information about the facility in her email and Steve eagerly scrolls through the pictures and testimonials from happy patients and their loved ones who had benefited from the facility’s services. Alisha has also included a questionnaire that she wants him to fill out, regarding Bucky’s behavior, history and his relationship with Steve.

The thought of filling out a complicated questionnaire and trying to put his feelings about Bucky into words is nerve wracking, but thankfully most of the questions require yes/no answers or provide multiple options for Steve to choose from.

Taking advantage of Bucky’s nap during the day, Steve answers the questions on his computer while Bucky’s napping next to him.

Going through the questionnaire is bittersweet. Steve has to answer questions about Bucky’s behavior in the past—prior to his traumatic brain injury—as well as the present and it makes Steve realize how much Bucky has changed.

Bucky used to love being in the middle of noise and excitement. The more people he could talk to during the day, the better. He was always the first to show up to a party and the last to leave. Everybody within hearing distance would always be pulled towards Bucky’s infectious social nature. Even people who were quieter—like Steve—loved being around Bucky. Now, Bucky’s the quiet one. Even now that he’s regained a lot the strength he’d lost, he enjoys quietly listening to Steve read him a story or watching Steve sketch. Although Bucky had always loved reading, Steve’s never known him to be content spending most of the day in near silence. It’s a strange change in their dynamic because Steve isn’t used to being the one who has to initiate conversations with Bucky.

Bucky’s lack of independence is also new. He’d always prided himself on being the one who took care of the people around him, including himself. From a very young age, he’d always loved taking care of his sisters, Steve, the stray animals in their neighborhood and anybody else who needed help. Now, Bucky’s put himself on the other side of that dynamic.

One thing that definitely hasn’t changed is Bucky’s tactile nature. The two of them have always been very physically affectionate with each other, especially Bucky. Kissing his friends on the cheek and hugging them had been always been part of Bucky’s daily life—whether the friends were male or female—and that hasn’t changed where Steve’s concerned, but Bucky isn’t initiating the contact as much as he used to.

Steve has no idea if Bucky will be this tactile with other people and that’ll be something they’ll have to address when it happens. While Steve couldn’t care less what people think when they see him kissing Bucky on the cheek or sitting with Bucky on his lap, he doesn’t want Bucky getting into awkward situations if he’s interacting with people in today’s world.

It makes him realize that his behavior with Bucky might surprise Alisha and the rest of Bucky’s care team but there’s no way he’s going to change how he acts towards Bucky because other people might be uncomfortable. There’s a section on the questionnaire where Steve can type a few sentences and he explains that he and Bucky have always been very affectionate towards each other—despite being platonic friends—and while it may seem strange by today’s standards, it’s something neither Steve nor Bucky want to change.

When he’s finished answering the questions, he sends them back to Alisha.

When he glances down at Bucky sleeping next to him and wearing his ear buds, Steve feels a little guilty. He just finished telling a stranger a lot of information about Bucky without having gotten his permission. Making a face at his behavior, Steve stares down at Bucky and listens to the faint music coming from the music player.

On the other hand, Steve knows Bucky wouldn’t have agreed to answer Alisha’s questions. In fact, Bucky wants nothing to do with the rehab facility. But it’s not something Bucky has a choice about. They can’t keep living in this hotel room. If Bucky’s too scared to take this necessary step forward to improve his own life, Steve will give him a little push. It’s what they’ve always done for each other.

* * *

Swiping the key card through the reader, Steve pushes open the door of the hotel room that’s a few floors below their own. He hadn’t wanted to meet somewhere in public where things might get awkward, and he didn’t want to go far from the safety of their own hotel room. But at the same time, he didn’t want Bucky associating his safe space with the stress of meeting strangers, so paying to use another hotel room for a day is the best option.

Sam had texted him and told him that he and the nurse from the rehab center are already in the room.

Pushing open the door, Steve rubs Bucky’s side. There’s tension in Bucky’s body and he’s frowning unhappily, not pleased to be meeting these strangers. The only reason he had agreed to meet Sam and Alisha was because Steve told him he had to choose between going to the center today, or just meeting with Sam and Alisha. It wasn’t a nice threat to make and Bucky had glared at him for it, but Steve didn’t know what else to do. Bucky is refusing to move forward on his own and staying where he isn’t an option either.

Walking into the room, Steve sees Sam sitting on one of the beds and an African-American woman about their age is sitting on one of the chairs. The chair closer to the door is empty, waiting for Steve and Bucky.

“Hey, Sam! And you must be Alisha?” Steve releases Bucky when he gets to Alisha and shakes her hand.

“Hi, Steve! It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Alisha says, smiling kindly.

Steve rubs Bucky’s side. “Buck, this is Alisha.”

But Bucky seems to have no interest in meeting her. His head is ducked down so his hair is hanging in his face and he’s glaring at the floor.

Steve presses his face against the side of Bucky’s. “Don’t be rude, pal. Just say hi. Please? Do it for me,” he whispers.

Letting out an annoyed sigh, Bucky puts on a fake smile and unwraps his hand from around Steve’s waist and holds it out to Alisha.

“Hi, Bucky. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Alisha says, gently shaking his head.

Bucky’s still glaring at the floor. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” he mumbles with absolutely no enthusiasm.

Steve rubs Bucky’s side and whispers “Thank you” into his hair. Then he steps away from Bucky just enough to reach Sam.

“Hey, Sam.” He gives Sam a hug, who hugs him back tightly.

“Hey, buddy. It’s good to see you.” After he releases Steve, Sam smiles at Bucky. “Hi, Bucky. You don’t gotta shake my hand if you don’t wanna, but I’m really happy to meet you in person.”

Bucky lifts his gaze from the floor, but his expression softens when he sees Sam. To Steve’s surprise, Bucky steps closer to Sam and holds out his hand. “Hi—hi, Sam. It’s nice to meet you.”

Sam grins and shakes his hand.

“Thank you for the—for the music player. It’s real nice.”

“Yeah? I’m happy to hear that.”

“It really helps me.” Bucky gives him a small smile.

Steve is very proud of Bucky, but he’s scared that Bucky will have a seizure any second, so he steers him to the other chair so they can sit down. He knows Bucky will want to stay close to him, so Steve sits down and pulls Bucky down on his lap, wrapping his arms around him and putting his chin on his shoulder.

Alisha has sat down in her chair again. “So Bucky, do you know why I’m here?”

The smile disappears from Bucky’s face. “You—you wanna take me—take me away from Steve.”

Steve sighs into Bucky’s shoulder. “You know that’s not true. We’ve been over this. The rehab center is gonna help you. I ain’t gonna abandon you.”

“But you said—you said we can’t go together.”

Alisha smiles softly. “Steve doesn’t need the rehab center, Bucky. That’s why he won’t come, but he can come visit.”

Bucky glares at her. “I don’t—I don’t—I don’t want it. I wanna stay with Steve,” he says, twisting so he’s staring at Steve.

Steve kisses his temple. “I know you do, and I want you to stay with me too, but you know that sometimes we need to go to other places to get help. I went to the hospital so many times, didn’t I? I never wanted to, but I had to. And sometimes I was really contagious and they didn’t let you come with me, but I had to go so I could get healthy.”

Bucky’s glare doesn’t ease. “I don’t wanna go. I don’t—I don’t wanna go.”

Sam leans forward. “Bucky, how about Alisha tells you more about what people do at the rehab center? She can—”

“I don’t wanna go!” Bucky says, interrupting Sam as if he didn’t even listen to him. He’s glaring at Steve, but Steve can see tears brimming his eyes. “You—you promised to take care—take care of me!”

“I told you, I can’t help you with some things. I wish I could, but—”

“If I—if I—if I listen to the lady and I don’t wanna go, then you promise—you—then you promise that I don’t gotta—don’t—don’t gotta go?”

Steve sighs softly. “I can’t promise that. I know you’re happy with how things are right now and you think everything’s fine, but we can’t keep living like this.”

“It _is_ fine! It’s fine! I—it’s fine—it’s fine!” Bucky’s started crying.

Steve lifts a hand and tries to brush the tears off Bucky’s face, but Bucky smacks his hand away, stumbles off his lap and goes to sit on the other bed, glaring at Steve as tears stream down his face.

“Buck, come on. You’re smarter than this, I know you are. Look at what we’re doing. We’re living in a hotel room and we’re spending every single day just eating, sleeping and you listening to me read or watching me sketch. That’s fine for tomorrow or next week, but what about six months from now? Or five years, or twenty years from now? You ain’t moving forward and—”

Bucky glares at him through his tears. “You—you promised! You—you promised and—and—you promised!” His voice gets louder the more upset he gets and Steve’s hears is breaking from guilt.

Sam tries again. “Bucky, Steve would be allowed to visit you and talk to you on the phone whenever you want. But being by yourself will allow you to regain your independence.”

Bucky completely ignores Sam and keeps crying and yelling at Steve. “You—you promised! You—you found me and now you—now you wanna—now you wanna get—get rid of me!”

Steve feels like the worst human being alive. “I don’t wanna get rid of you, Buck! I—I never—” Steve can barely talk because his heart is hurting so badly.

“You didn’t—you didn’t look for me after—after the train and I wished—I wished so hard but you didn’t—didn’t—now you’re gonna—gonna abandon—abandon me again!” Bucky sobs out.

Steve feels like he just got punched in the face. He can’t breathe and he can’t get his mouth to form any words. The guilt of Bucky’s words is tearing him into pieces.

A hand suddenly touches Steve’s arm and he startles a bit and stares at Sam, who has gotten off the bed and is standing next to Steve’s chair, squeezing his shoulder and giving him badly needed support.

“You—you—you—I don’t—you—you promised! You _promised!_ ” Bucky sobs.

Steve still can’t breathe properly. All he can do is stare helplessly at Bucky. He has no idea what to do. He’s seconds away from bringing Bucky back upstairs to their room, but he knows he’ll regret that within a few hours. He’s stuck and he has no idea how to handle this.

To his surprise, Alisha gets off her chair and kneels before Bucky. “Bucky, I know you’re very upset right now but I’d like to talk to you. Is that okay?”

Bucky keeps crying, but even though Steve knows he wants to tell her to take a hike, he knows Steve would be upset if he throws his manners out the window where a lady is concerned. He nods, but he’s still glaring at Steve through his tears.

“You get those seizures where you fall down, right? And sometimes you get confused and sometimes the words you want don’t come, right?”

“Uh huh,” Bucky mumbles, furious eyes still on Steve.

“You know that your brain isn’t at 100%, right? You understand that, don’t you?” Alisha asks.

“Uh huh.”

“Bucky, can you look at me for a second? I know you’re very upset with Steve, but he’s not going anywhere. Can you look at me for a second?”

Taking a shaky breath, Bucky transfers his gaze to Alisha.

“Do you understand that your brain is sick right now?”

Bucky sniffs. “Yeah,” he mumbles through his tears. “Yeah, I know.”

“And another thing you know is that Steve always does his best to take care of you, right? He never tries to hurt you and if you’re sick, he always tries to help you.”

“He—he—he’s trying to hurt—hurt me now.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m just talking about in general. If you’re sick, has there ever been a time where Steve hasn’t done everything in his power to make you better?”

Bucky scrubs the tears off his cheeks as he shakes his head. He’s stopped crying, but he still looks upset.

Steve can finally breathe, but his heart is still aching. He’s so tempted to tell Alisha and Sam to leave so he and Bucky can go back upstairs and go back to living their safe, little lives. But he knows—he _knows_ —that’s not good for Bucky. He has to stay strong for Bucky’s sake.

Fumbling for Sam’s hand on his shoulder, Steve grabs hold of it and squeezes it for support. He hopes he’s not hurting Sam, but he needs somebody to anchor him before he allows his heart to ruin Bucky’s future.

Alisha is still talking, her calm voice slowly replacing the chaotic emotions that had filled the room moments ago. “So Steve has been working really hard to make you better and you’re eating properly and getting lots of rest, right?”

“Uh huh. Steve did that. He takes—he takes care of me.”

“That’s right. But you’re still getting these seizures and sometimes you still get confused and the words don’t come when you need them, right?”

Bucky frowns at Alisha. “Steve can fix that. He can—he can make those things better too.”

Alisha glances at Steve. “Steve? Can you fix those things? Do you have the right medicine?”

Steve manages to shake his head. He clears his throat so he can talk. “N-no, I don’t. I wish I did, but I don’t have that medicine.”

“Then—then we can go buy it,” Bucky mumbles, frowning at Steve stubbornly.

Alisha gives him a sad smile. “Steve could buy some of the medicine in the store, but he’s missing an important part of the medicine.”

“What?”

“He’s doesn’t know how to give you the medicine and what to do when the medicine doesn’t work right. He doesn’t know those things, but you know who does know those things?”

Bucky frowns and makes a face. Steve knows he knows the answer. “The people at the—at the center, like you. You know those things.”

“That’s right. Sometimes when we’re really sick, we need help from strangers to get better. Steve isn’t abandoning you and he’s not being cruel, he just wants you to get healthy because that’s very important to him. He knows your best chance to get healthy is to go to the center.”

Bucky chews on his lip. “It’s like when you were real sick.” He glances at Steve.

Steve nods. “Yeah. It’s exactly like that.”

Then Bucky makes a face again. “But why can’t you go with me? I always—I always went to the hospital with you. Except when you were real contagious, but I—but I ain’t contagious. The seizures ain’t—ain’t contagious.”

Steve slides off the chair and crouches in front of Bucky, next to Alisha. “I know you did, but that was different. Getting medicine for your brain is really complicated. It’s not enough to just take medicine. You gotta do other things to help heal your brain, but if I’m there then I’d be too tempted to help you cheat. And that’s not good. You gotta learn these things yourself so your brain can get strong and healthy again.”

Bucky’s back to glaring at him. “I don’t wanna get a healthy brain if I don’t got you.”

Reaching up, Steve grabs Bucky’s hand and squeezes it. “You’ll always have me, Buck. Always. I ain’t ever abandoning you, you hear me? Just cause I won’t be there all the time don’t mean I forgot about you. I’m gonna call all the time, I’ll come visit and you know where else I’ll be?”

Bucky shakes his head.

Steve gently touches Bucky’s chest. “Right there. Right in your heart. Every single second that I’m not with you, I’ll be thinking of you. All you gotta do is remember how much I love you and how proud I am of you.”

“But what if—what if I don’t like it?”

“Well, first you gotta give it a good try, okay? And if the doctors and you both agree that you’re not doing well, then we’ll find a different center, but you gotta give it a good try first.”

“I don’t—I don’t wanna be around a bunch of strangers and a strange place. I get confused and I don’t like that.”

Alisha gives Bucky a kind smile. “How about you both come to see the center together? You can see exactly where you’re going to be sleeping and eating and exercising. Steve can help you decorate your room and he’ll be right there when you meet the other people on your care team. He can stay with you for a few days and then you’ll see how you feel and we’ll reassess.”

“What’s—what’s my care team?”

Steve is starting to breathe a bit easier. Bucky’s still unhappy, but he’s no longer overwhelmed with emotions and Steve can tell from the lower amount of stuttering and the questions Bucky’s asking that he’s coming around to the idea.

“Well, I’m one of the nurses. You’ll have doctors and all sorts of other people to help you. A whole team of people whose only job is to help you and take care of you.”

Bucky looks a bit interested and he glances at Steve, who smiles encouragingly, then he looks at Alisha. “What if—what if I wanna see Steve?”

“It’s not a prison, I promise. Steve can come visit you whenever you want, but you’ll be very busy. You won’t have time to see Steve every single day, but he can come visit. And even if Steve isn’t there in person, you can talk on the phone.”

“I—I can talk to Steve every day?”

Alisha nods. “Yes, I promise.”

Steve stares at Bucky, gently squeezing his hand. “What do you think, Buck? You wanna go check it out together?”

“You’ll—you’ll—you’ll stay with me?”

“I’ll stay with you while we gather intel about the place, alright? And then we’ll reassess how we feel.”

Bucky thinks that over for a few minutes. Then: “Do they have the vanilla shakes at the center?” He asks Alisha.

Alisha frowns politely and Steve steps in to clarify. “He means the nutritional drinks he’s been drinking. He’s got a big sweet tooth.”

“Oh, I see! We do have nutritional drinks and we serve yummy dessert every single day.”

“Yummy dessert?”

Steve struggles to hide his smile. Trust Barnes to leap onto that fact.

“Oh, yeah. We’ve got brownies and cake and cookies and ice cream—lots of stuff. We’ll have to see what your stomach likes eating and we’ll find your favorites.”

Bucky stares at Steve again. “You’ll come with me?”

Steve squeezes his hand. He should remind Bucky that he’ll go with him, but he won’t be able to stay. But Bucky’s still teetering on the edge of changing his mind, so Steve doesn’t want to re-introduce that stress. They can deal with that later. The first step is getting Bucky to the center, and they’ll go from there. “Yeah.”

Sighing softly, Bucky looks at Alisha. He still looks wary, but he’s got a determined look on his face. “Okay, fine. We’ll go see what this center’s all about.”


	10. Chapter 10

Steve is a bit shocked when Alisha suggests going to the center right away. But after a brief moment of panic, he realizes there’s no reason to wait. In fact, if they wait, there’s a chance Bucky will change his mind and they’ll have to do this all over again. It’s best to use this momentum that they’ve built up.

Before they can go, Alisha explains that for legal purposes, they have to fill out the proper paperwork. Alisha had already filled in Bucky’s care team on his history and his situation, but the forms need to be filled out. Bucky makes a face when he sees the forms and declares that reading so much writing will confuse him and make his head hurt, so Steve is allowed to fill them out for him.

He doesn’t understand some of the medical jargon, but thankfully, Sam and Alisha are there to help.

When it comes to signing the forms, Bucky balks. “I ain’t—I ain’t said I’m going, Rogers!”

“Signing these forms don’t mean you gotta stay there. All you’re signing is that you’re promising what I wrote is true and that you won’t get mad at the center if you hurt yourself cause of your seizures. Do you want me to go over them with you again? We’ll do it slower.”

But Bucky makes an annoyed sound. “No, I don’t care. Just tell me where to sign.”

Steve wants to argue with Bucky over his attitude—signing things is something Bucky should always care about—but he doesn’t want to ruin Bucky’s fragile desire to visit the center.

Once that’s done and Alisha has checked over the forms, she offers to give them a ride to Virginia.

Steve grins. “Oh, that’ll be great, thank you!”

He packs up some clothes for them, the e-reader and other things they might need, hugs Sam goodbye and they join Alisha for the trip to the rehab center. Steve hadn’t wanted to freak Bucky out by packing too much stuff. He figures he can bring Bucky more things if he decides to stay at the center for long term.

The drive takes an hour and a half. Bucky doesn’t like looking at the scenery whizzing past the window, so they sit in the backseat together and Bucky slumps into his side, listening to his music player with his eyes closed.

The two floor rehab center is in a quiet, rural area and looks inviting from the outside, having been painted a neutral beige and there are colorful flowers and bushes planted along the walls. Steve’s glad it’s not a massive grey cement block like the hospitals he used to frequent. The building sits on a large chunk of land covered in grass and trees, making it an open and calm space.

“See, Buck? No fences, no gates, nothing. It ain’t a prison.”

Bucky climbs out of the car after Steve and wraps his arm around Steve, grabbing onto his belt loops, but he’s looking around with interest.

He takes one of the ear buds out and tilts his head. “It’s—it’s quiet. It’s better than the—than the hotel was.”

Steve pauses to listen and realizes that Bucky’s right. There’s the chirping of birds and he can hear a few cars passing on the nearby streets, but they’re far enough away that the noise isn’t as bad as in the middle of DC. He can see a few people walking around outside the rehab center—one person is being pushed in a wheelchair by a person in a uniform, and there’s a family at a picnic table in the middle of the grass.

It’s quiet and peaceful. Steve finds it a bit jarring after the noise of being in the city, but this is the perfect environment for Bucky.

Bucky’s smiling and he reaches into his pocket to turn off the music player, which he never does when they’re outside. It gives Steve a good feeling about this whole thing.

Alisha has locked her car and she gives them both encouraging smiles. “You guys ready? Let’s head inside.”

Once they’re inside, it’s clear that the theme of calmness has been incorporated into the interior décor as well. The walls are all painted a neutral beige or white and the furniture is a light colored wood with beige upholstery. Even the pictures hanging on the walls invoke a sense of calmness, being paintings of landscapes and flowers.

The relaxing environment seems to have an immediate effect on Bucky. Steve can feel that his arm around Steve’s waist has loosened a bit, and he’s looking around with interest.

“See? Everything’s nice and still in here, ain’t it?” Steve mumbles against Bucky’s head.

Bucky nods. “Yeah. I—I like it. It’s like our hotel room when I’ve got my music player on. I can—I can think good. But I don’t even need the music player now.”

Steve kisses his temple and rubs his side.

Alisha heads to the front desk and speaks to the receptionist for a few minutes, then she rejoins them. “Alright, are you two ready for the tour?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, and he actually sounds excited, which makes Steve grin. Alisha looks delighted too.

“Okay, let’s go!”

The center is beautiful and it really is everything Alisha said it was. Sam had emailed him a break-down of what Bucky’s care will cost and Steve had been shocked to discover that the 6 month program will cost $45,000.

Thankfully his military back-pay will easily cover it, but even if he didn’t have the money, he would have done whatever it took to pay for it. Sam has told him this center is one of the best in the country for treating traumatic brain injuries and Steve knows this is the best chance to give Bucky a decent life.

Alisha shows them around the first floor, which has a nice, open dining room. The room is filled with square tables and four chairs around each one, with plenty of space between them. It’s a far cry from the cramped mess tent which Steve and Bucky had dealt with during the war.

“Everything we do is focused on keeping the environment as relaxing as possible. Do you remember you told me you get confused sometimes, Bucky?”

“Uh huh.”

“We have set routines and we focus on making everything as easy for patients as possible, so there’s less chance that you’ll get confused.”

She explains that patients are free to eat in the dining room or their own rooms and there are staff members who are available to help.

Bucky makes a face. “I like it when—when Steve does it for me.”

Alisha smiles kindly. “I know you do, and if you need help, then your care team will help you. That’s our job. But it’ll be exciting when you start eating on your own.”

Steve notices she hadn’t framed that last bit as a question, probably because she knows what Bucky’s response would be.

They go to another part of the center which is an enormous exercise room. There are some patients inside, doing exercises on various machines, under the watchful eyes of several staff members. Then they peek into some rooms which Alisha explains are for group and individual therapy. The rooms are filled with comfortable couches and cushioned chairs. Steve’s noticed that every single room has enormous windows, letting in warm sunshine and showing the greenery outside.

There are a few other rooms that contain different set-ups for patients learning how to do various daily tasks: one room is a large kitchen, another contains multiple desks and a whiteboard at the front, and there’s one room that’s been set up to look like a small grocery store, complete with a cash register and food items on the shelves. Steve smiles when he realizes that the center won’t just be helping Bucky deal with his injuries, but they’ll also help Bucky get acclimatized to the twenty-first century living and he won’t have to struggle nearly as much as Steve did.

At the end of the hallway, there’s a large door which leads to the medical wing. Alisha explains that’s where the patients stay who need intensive medical care, but except for testing related to his seizure condition, Bucky will hopefully never have to be in that area.

“Would you like to see your room?”

Bucky narrows his eyes at Alisha. “I—I ain’t promised that I’m—that I’m gonna stay yet.”

Steve rubs his side but stays quiet. He likes the sound of the ‘yet’ that Bucky has added. Alisha doesn’t acknowledge Bucky’s half-hearted complaint either and they take a big elevator up to the second floor.

“We do have stairs that lead up to the second floor, but until your seizures are under control, we want you to take the elevator, okay?”

“Okay,” Bucky mumbles, not putting up a fight. Again, Steve is happy that Bucky isn’t arguing with Alisha’s wording that makes it seem as if he’s definitely going to be staying here.

This second floor reminds Steve a lot of the hotel, with multiple little doors on either side of the hallway, but unlike the long, dark hallway of the hotel, there are windows in the ceiling every few feet that allow the sunlight to stream in.

Alisha stops them at a specific door and holds up a black key fob, hanging from a coiled plastic bracelet. “Have you seen one of these before Bucky?”

Frowning, Bucky shakes his head, as Steve knew he would. The hotel keycard had been the first time Bucky had come face to face with a door-opening mechanism that didn’t involve a traditional key, but he hadn’t appeared interested when Steve had offered to teach him how to use it and Steve hadn’t pushed him.

“It’s called a key fob. You just tap it against this pad here—” Alisha taps it against a black pad attached to the door handle and there’s a quiet chirp and Steve hears the door unlock. “—and then you can open the door.” She gives the door a nudge and it swings open.

Reaching out, she pulls the door shut again and holds the key fob out to Bucky. “Would you like to try it?”

Bucky looks at Steve uncertainly and Steve gives Bucky an encouraging smile. “Go for it. You can do it.”

Bucky takes the plastic fob from Alisha, taps it against the pad and smiles when he hears the chirp. Giving the door a little push, he watches it swing open.

“Good job!” Steve tells him with a smile.

Bucky shoots him a shy smile. “I—I like that. It’s easier than—than a key.”

Alisha smiles. “Well done. Yes, it’s much easier than a key, isn’t it? Why don’t you hang onto the fob? It’s yours. You can wear it around your wrist so you don’t have to worry about losing it.”

That makes Bucky frown. “I—I ain’t promised—”

“I know you didn’t. If you change your mind, you can just give the key back to the receptionist downstairs, but until then, this room is yours.”

They go inside and Steve’s attention is immediately drawn to a large window that overlooks the lawn below and the rolling forest-covered hills in the distance. Two padded chairs sit right by the window and Steve knows Bucky will love it there.

There’s a small bathroom close to the front door and the room has a lot of the same furniture that their hotel room does. Steve notices there’s no radio, TV or computer. Like everything else in the center, the room has been set up to be as relaxing as possible. There are outlets in the wall so Bucky could probably get a computer or a TV if he wanted one, but Steve knows Bucky won’t want any of those things.

Bucky releases Steve and cautiously walks around, poking at the mattress, opening the closet door and peering out of the window, touching the chairs along the way.

“How do you like it?” Steve asks.

Shrugging, Bucky tears his gaze off the view outside and glances at Steve. “I—I—”

And then his eyes roll up and he collapses. Steve lunges for him and manages to grab him before he hits his head on the table. He sinks down to the ground, taking Bucky with him, cradling his head in his arms.

“Do you need help?” Alisha asks, kneeling next to him.

“No, it’s fine. He’ll come out of it in a few seconds.”

She nods and pushes herself up, moving away to give them space.

Sure enough, Bucky slowly opens his eyes and frowns up to Steve. “I—I had another one?” he mumbles.

“Yeah. Do you remember where we are?”

Bucky frowns harder. “We’re at the—at the hotel. Can we read a new book?”

Steve gently rubs Bucky’s stomach, keeping Bucky cradled in his arms. “No, buddy. We’re at the rehab center in Virginia. We came with Alisha, remember? In her car?”

“I—I remember the car.” Bucky glances around himself and looks a bit panicked. “I—I don’t—I don’t know this place.”

“Buck, it’s okay. Look at me.”

Bucky brings his panicked eyes to Steve.

Giving Bucky a soft smile, Steve rubs his stomach soothingly. “Everything’s okay. There’s no reason to be scared. I ain’t gonna let anything bad happen to you. You don’t remember, but we’ve been walking around with Alisha and looking at things. You really liked the things you saw.”

“I—I don’t remember.”

“That’s okay. Do we wanna sit here for a bit and look out the window? You liked that.”

“Can I have a—have a vanilla shake?”

Steve glances at Alisha. He’d left their bag in Alisha’s car so he could have both hands to help Bucky, but Alisha gives him a thumbs up and walks out of the room, gently leaning it closed behind her.

“Alisha’s gonna go get you a vanilla shake. You ready to get up?”

“Uh huh. But slow, my head hurts.”

“Okay.”

Steve gets Bucky up and sits down in one of chairs by the window. Bucky curls up on Steve’s lap, but he’s staring outside and he’s got a smile on his face.

Rubbing his chin on the top of Bucky’s head, Steve wraps his arms loosely around Bucky and looks out at the quiet scenery. He’s accustomed to hearing the noises of a city outside his window so this silence is a bit eerie. Throughout his entire life, he’s listened to cars honking and driving past, people yelling and laughing and dogs barking. This silence is unnatural.

But Bucky is relaxed in his arms and sighs happily. “I like—I like this quiet,” he mumbles.

Steve smiles and kisses his temple. “I’m glad.”

There’s a quiet knock on the door, which startles Bucky, but Steve gives him a tight squeeze. “It’s okay, it’s just Alisha.” Steve turns his head towards the door. “Come in.”

Alisha steps inside and she brings over a mug filled with something that smells sweet and familiar when she hands it to Bucky.

“Here you go. A vanilla shake.”

Smiling, Bucky takes the glass. “Thank you,” he mumbles and eagerly sips it, relaxing against Steve and staring out the window again.

Alisha points at the phone of the desk. “I’m going to leave you both to relax for a bit, but if you need anything, just pick up the phone and press the big red emergency button. Or you can press the button labelled ‘reception’ and Dawn can help you with whatever you need. You can wander anywhere you want, but if you decide to leave, please let Dawn known and don’t enter any therapy rooms where the doors are closed, and please stay out of the medical wing. I’ll be back in a few hours for dinner and we can decide where you’d like to eat.”

Steve smiles. “Thank you, Alisha.”

Bucky stops sipping his drink. He smiles at Alisha too. “Thank you, Alisha,” he echoes Steve and he actually sounds sincere.

Once Alisha’s left and closed the door behind her, Steve and Bucky are alone in that silence again, watching the scenery outside the window. A gentle breeze sways the trees and a few people are walking around on the lawn, but everything else stays still.

It’s making Steve feel sleepy, but Bucky’s smile indicates that he likes it. At one point, he starts wriggling a bit, as if he’s uncomfortable.

“These chairs ain’t designed for two people. You wanna sit in your own chair? Here.” Steve pulls the other chair closer.

Bucky considers for a second. He glances at Steve and narrows his eyes at him. “You ain’t gonna leave?”

“Of course not, jerk.”

“Hmm. Punk,” Bucky mumbles. He takes some more sips of his drink, then scrambles up and slides onto the other chair. Kicking off his shoes, he lifts his feet to Steve’s lap, who grabs his socked feet and rubs them.

Bucky looks a bit unsure about sitting by himself, so Steve gives him an encouraging smile. “Good job. You see? You feel safe and good around here, don’t you? It’s fine for you to sit by yourself. You can do it and nothing bad happens.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky mumbles, not sounding too sure. But he stays where he is and looks back out the window.

Gradually, Steve can see Bucky relax into his chair. He starts wriggling his feet a bit, his toes trying to grab Steve’s fingers and laughing every time Steve lets his fingers be caught.

“You—you’re humoring me, punk.”

“What are you gonna do about it, huh? Attack me with your feet some more? I’m shaking in my boots.”

Bucky gently kicks him in the stomach with his heel and stares out of the window again, drinking his vanilla shake.

* * *

They stay in the room for a bit before Bucky wants to go outside, so they wander around on the green lawn and admire the trees and the bushes. The leaves rustle in the soft breeze, there are birds chirping and Bucky’s grip around Steve’s waist is a lot looser than it usually is. The music player is in Bucky’s pocket, the ear phones coiled around it and ready for whenever Bucky needs it, but it seems it’s quiet enough around here for him.

Steve keeps his own grip around Bucky tight, since walking around can easily result in another seizure. They stop to admire some of the flowers and bushes and make it around the building before they head back inside.

Since Bucky seems to be in good spirits still, Steve decides to push him a little. “You wanna go check out the exercise room?”

“Okay.” Then Bucky frowns. “But you’re gonna stay?”

Steve smiles and reassuringly squeezes Bucky’s side. “Of course I am.”

When they come back into the building, the receptionist—Dawn—informs them that Alisha had brought in their bag. They grab it and drop it off upstairs before heading into the large gym.

Bucky seems fond of the stationary bike. He starts laughing and can’t get over the fact that a person can peddle on it, but they don’t actually go anywhere. When Steve gets on it to demonstrate how to use it, Bucky laughs even harder.

“Some things in the future are real—are real dumb, ain’t they?” Bucky wheezes out.

Steve rolls his eyes. “It’s for exercise, you goof.”

“You look so stupid!” Then he dissolves into more laughter and ends up having to sit down on the floor.

They’re attracting a lot of attention, but Steve is laughing at Bucky too hard to care, and Bucky’s completely focused on how silly he thinks the stationary bike looks.

“You wanna get on and make a fool out of yourself too, Barnes?”

Bucky gradually stops laughing and gazes up at the machine. “I might—I might fall off if I have a seizure.”

Steve stops peddling and swings himself off the bike. “I know. I’ll stay close, don’t worry.”

They switched places and Steve stands right behind Bucky, keeping his legs out of the rotating peddles way, but keeping his arms around Bucky so he can easily support him if he has a seizure. Bucky’s metal arm hangs down his side, which threatens to pull Bucky off balance, but when he lifts the arm and lets it thunk down on the bike’s handlebars, he seems more stable.

Bucky starts giggling as soon as he starts peddling. “This feels so dumb! I’m peddling a bike but I ain’t going nowhere! Ha!”

Steve snorts out a laugh and presses his head against Bucky’s. “You ain’t ever gonna get over this, huh?”

“Nope!”

Steve had set the bike on an easy setting so Bucky doesn’t have to work hard to keep peddling, but the lack of effort makes his attention drift.

Feeling Bucky tense, Steve tightens his grip on him. “What’s wrong?”

“I—I—Stevie, can you turn off the letters? They’re moving too quick and they’re—they’re—I don’t like them.”

Steve frowns, confused and looks over Bucky’s shoulder to see what he’s looking at. Then his eyes catch on the digital display on the bike that’s currently showing the speed, resistance level and other information. The numbers change constantly and the lights are flickering, which is probably too stimulating for Bucky.

Looking the display over, Steve sees a button that allows the display to be turned off. He reaches for it, then stops and reconsiders. “There’s a button on the display. You see?” Steve points at it. “It says ‘Display’ above it, and you can hit the on or the off button. Try pressing the off button.”

Frowning, Bucky reaches over and presses it. The display goes dark and Bucky lets out a sigh of relief. “I like that better.”

“Good. You wanna keep peddling for a bit or are you done?”

“I’ll keep peddling. It’s soothing. I used to ride a bike, didn’t—didn’t I?”

“Yup. It was a rusty, half-broken green thing and had no brakes, but it got you around Brooklyn a lot quicker than walking and it was cheaper than the train.”

“The train—the train cost 5 cents. We didn’t have 5 cents most of the time.”

“No, we didn’t. Sometimes we’d jump the turnstiles, but we couldn’t do that when they had train employees standing there.”

Steve keeps chatting about random things, answering Bucky’s questions and carefully monitoring him for any changes. Bucky seems happy to keep peddling.

Eventually, Alisha appears next to them, watching Bucky peddling. “Hi, you two. I see you’re enjoying the bike, Bucky.”

Bucky lets out a laugh. “I think it’s—it’s dumb, but I like it.”

Alisha smiles. “Why is it dumb?”

“Cause it’s a bike that needs peddling, but you don’t go nowhere. I like it, but it’s a bit silly.”

She laughs. “I see your point. They didn’t have stationary bikes back in the 1930s, did they?”

“Nope. Just the normal kind.”

Alisha laughs again. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying the 21st century version. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure,” Bucky says, stopping his peddling and carefully climbing off the bike. He immediately steps closer to Steve and Steve winds his arm around Bucky’s waist.

“I’ve spoken to your care team and we’re all very concerned over your seizures. We’re worried over your safety. If you fall, you could hurt yourself and it’s very stressful for Steve to always be holding onto you, isn’t it?”

Bucky nods. He glances at Steve, then back to Alisha. “It—it—Steve takes care of me, but it—it shouldn’t be all the time. That ain’t—that ain’t how we do things.”

Steve is surprised by Bucky’s response. It’s the first time Bucky’s acknowledged that he understands how difficult it is for Steve to be his caregiver 24 hours a day.

“That’s right. So we’d like to get you started on some seizure medication right away, but to do that, we need to do some testing first. How do you feel about the doctors looking at you today? We can wait until tomorrow, but the sooner we do it, the faster you can start on the medication.”

Bucky looks at Steve again, but now he looks worried. “Can—can Steve be there for testing?”

“Of course he can!”

Chewing on his lip, Bucky stares at Steve and Steve looks back at him. He doesn’t say anything, wanting Bucky to make the decision for himself.

Bucky finally takes a deep breath. “Okay, I can do it today. I don’t like having the seizures. They—they make me forget things and make my head hurt.”

“Okay, great! If you’re ready, I’ll take you to the medical wing.”


	11. Chapter 11

The testing is a bit stressful for Bucky. He meets Dr. Joshua, who’s part of his care team—Steve and Bucky don’t understand why the doctor wants them to call him by his first name, but he’s a young guy so maybe it’s another one of those 21st century things?—and Dr. Joshua and Alisha carry out the testing. They attach various gadgets to Bucky’s head to measure his brain activity and then he has to lie down and be put through a big cylindrical machine which will do more scanning.

Bucky doesn’t like going into the machine, but Steve is allowed to keep touching Bucky’s legs when he goes into the tube. Rubbing Bucky’s leg and talking to him seems to keep him relaxed enough until he comes back out of the machine.

Alisha, Dr. Joshua and Steve all praise Bucky whenever he finishes another test. To Steve’s pleasant surprise, there are no needles and nothing that cause Bucky any pain. It’s much better than the type of testing Steve had been put through during his childhood.

When the tests are done, Dr. Joshua shows them some of the scans and explains what they mean in his soft British accent.

“As you can see by the dark areas on these scans, there is some brain damage, probably due to the electric shocks that you were subjected to. This damage is what’s causing your memory problems, your sensitivity to complex visual and auditory stimuli, and also your seizures. Due to the serum that you were given, there’s a chance some of this damage will heal on its own but we have no way of knowing whether that’ll happen.”

Steve is squeezing Bucky’s hand while Dr. Joshua speaks, but none of this is a surprise. Sam had told Steve that he shouldn’t expect miracles. They can hope for miracles, but they should expect the damage to be permanent.

“For the seizures, I’d like to start you on some medication now, but it’ll take several days to see if it has any effect. We’ll probably have to try different doses and different medications until we find a combination that works. I’m also going to give you something for your headaches.”

“Okay,” Bucky says. Steve knows he hates having the seizures and the headaches, which is probably why he’s being so cooperative with Dr. Joshua.

After Bucky takes the medication, Alisha brings over a strange looking plastic helmet. It’s a white dome with a clear face shield in the front that has openings over the eyes and mouth area.

“Bucky, this is something we’d like to encourage you to wear.”

Bucky makes a face. “It looks dumb. Why do I gotta wear that?”

Dr. Joshua smiles kindly. “We know Steve is a great physical support and he does his best, but it’s not a good idea to entirely rely on Steve to keep you safe, is it? If Steve is distracted by something then he might not catch you in time. And wouldn’t it be nice if you can walk a few steps without having to rely on Steve to keep you safe?”

“I—I like it when Steve walks with me.”

Alisha leans forward. “I know you do, but even if Steve is walking with you, he might not be able to catch you in time. That’s not Steve’s fault, but we don’t want you hitting your head when you fall down. This helmet will protect your head and your face.”

Bucky still doesn’t look happy, but Steve gently squeezes his thigh. “Ain’t your noggin got enough damage, Barnes? I’d really feel better if you agreed to wear it. It’s real stressful that I gotta worry about catching you all the time. You know I don’t mind doing it, but I worry that you’ll hurt yourself if I don’t catch you.”

That makes Bucky frown. “You’ll feel better if I—if I wear it?”

“Yeah.”

Sighing softly, Bucky gives Alisha a nod. “Okay, fine. Let me try it.”

Dr. Joshua and Alisha help to get the helmet on Bucky and snap the chin strap shut. They show him how he can easily unsnap and flip the face shield up so he can eat and he doesn’t have to worry about constantly taking the helmet on and off.

Steve squeezes Bucky’s thigh again while Bucky pokes his fingers through the slits on the face shield and moves his head around. “How does it feel, Buck?”

“It’s—it’s fine. It’s comfortable.”

Alisha smiles. “That’s good. If you want to make any adjustments, we can get a different size or change the straps. You can take it off if you’re lying in bed, sitting in a chair with arm rests or the bathtub, but for your own safety, we’d like you to wear it at all other times until we’ve managed to control the seizures.”

Nodding, Bucky moves his head around and glances at Steve. “How do I look, Rogers?”

Steve grins. There’s absolutely nothing that Bucky Barnes can put on himself that’ll ever make him look anything other than ridiculously attractive, but Steve doesn’t tell him that. “You look ready to do battle with Nazis, Barnes.”

Bucky grins, knocking his fist against the side of the helmet. “Well, thank goodness one of us is prepared ‘round here.”

Alisha laughs. “I’m glad you think it’s comfortable. I’m happy that you consider your own safety a high priority.”

“I can’t—I can’t have Steve being the only worrier round here, can I?”

Steve lightly kicks his ankles and grins at him. He’s relieved that Bucky is being such a good sport about this. “You’re a peach, Buck.”

“I know, Rogers. Don’t—don’t you forget it. And by the way? My headache’s gone now, which is also great.”

Alisha and Steve both grin. “That’s great!” Alisha exclaims. She grabs a tablet that Dr. Joshua had been writing on and makes some notes on it.

Dr. Joshua has been rummaging around on a nearby desk, and now he comes back to them, holding a little white patch in his hand. “We’d also like you to wear this device.”

“You gonna—you gonna put that right in the middle of my forehead? I’ll look real snazzy.”

Dr. Joshua chuckles. “It’s a wireless monitoring device. It’ll send information about your vital signs directly to your care team so we can monitor you even when you’re not in the medical wing. All you have to do is keep it on your chest at all times, except when you’re bathing.”

Bucky exchanges a look with Steve, and Steve tries to project a silent plea with his eyes. Bucky quirks a half-smile at him, which is barely visible behind the clear plastic face shield. He seems to understand. “Okay, let’s get it on me.”

Dr. Joshua attaches the little sticky pad to Bucky’s chest and Alisha asks him if he’d like to see the graphs showing his heart rate and breathing on her phone, but she warns him that the graph lines are moving quite quickly.

Bucky makes a face. “No, thank you. But you can really see my breathing and my heart beating on your telephone?”

“Yes, I can.”

Bucky grins behind the face shield. “Wow, that’s nifty!”

Alisha laughs “Absolutely! Thank you for agreeing to wear the monitor. It’s great that you’re taking your health and safety so seriously.”

Bucky looks a bit bashful at the praise. “It ain’t a big deal.”

Dr. Joshua smiles. “Actually, it is. It’s a very big deal and I applaud you for being so tough. Now, you’re free to go, but I’d like you to come back after dinner. I need to run some blood tests to see how quickly you’re metabolizing the seizure medication. And if your headaches return at any point, come back and we’ll give you another dose.”

After they say goodbye to Dr. Joshua, they head out of the medical wing. Alisha leaves them at the elevator, telling them she’ll come see them later.

It’s weird seeing Bucky with the helmet on his head, but Steve knows his own attitude about it is vital for making Bucky accept this new part of his daily life. If Steve acts like it’s weird, then Bucky will feel more self-conscious about it.

When they’re back in Bucky’s room, Bucky settles in his armchair by the window and takes the helmet off, gently putting it down by his feet. He’s got a small smile on his face as he relaxes against the cushions.

“What are you smiling at, Barnes? You proud of how good you did with Dr. Joshua?” Steve is very happy that Bucky had immediately settled into his own armchair and he doesn’t even glance at Steve when he sits in his own chair.

“Uh huh, but I’m also happy cause the—cause the headaches are really gone.”

Steve smiles. “That’s great!” He feels a bit guilty at the thought that Bucky has been in constant pain from the headaches, but he tries to remind himself that there’s nothing he could have done about it earlier, and Bucky is now getting the help and medication that’ll help him feel better.

Bucky grins back. “Uh huh. I like—I like Dr. Joshua.”

“You mean you like his medication.”

“That too. But I liked—I liked his accent. I reminded me of a woman. She used to talk the same way. I forgot—I forgot who she is, but I can hear her voice in my head.”

Steve smiles sadly. “Peggy?”

Bucky frowns. “I—I don’t remember that name.”

“Agent Carter?”

Bucky’s face lights up. “Carter! That’s what I called her! And she—and she called me Barnes.”

“That’s right. She used to call you Sergeant Barnes and you called her Agent Carter, but when you told her she didn’t need to be so formal when we weren’t around the big brass, she told you she’d only do it if you called her ‘Carter’.”

“I don’t remember that. But I remember her saying—her saying ‘Howard—Howard has some equipment for you to try’.”

Steve chuckles. “Yeah, she said that. You remember who Howard was?”

Bucky frowns. “He—he had the flying automobile. Holy cow. But I don’t remember anything else about Carter either. Just that sentence.”

“Don’t worry about it. Give it time and more of your memories might come back. But even if they don’t and you wanna know about anything that happened in the past, just ask me.”

“Okay.”

Steve leans back in his chair. “So how did you like wearing the helmet?”

Bucky shrugs. “I don’t mind it. The sticky thing is okay too. But it’s itchy.”

Since Bucky’s still smiling, Steve figures the itch isn’t unbearable. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m real proud of you.”

“I know,” Bucky says, smirking at Steve, which makes Steve laugh. While they relax in their chairs by the windows again, there’s a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Bucky calls over before Steve can do it. The fact that he hadn’t startled at the sound is fantastic. Between the headache medication and the feeling of safety that this atmosphere is providing, Steve can tell that Bucky’s already feeling more comfortable than he had in DC.

It really makes it sink in for Steve that this place will be good for Bucky. His earlier apprehensions have now disappeared and he’ll do whatever he has to in order to get Bucky to agree to stay. This place is exactly what Bucky needs and these folks know exactly how to take care of Bucky.

Alisha pokes her head into the room. “Hi again. I’m sorry to bother you again so soon, but Bucky, I’m wondering if I can introduce you to another member of your care team? If you feel you’ve met enough people today, then we can do it tomorrow.”

Bucky seems to be in a happy, relaxed mood and he nods immediately. “We can do it today.” He pushes himself up, takes a step away from his armchair…

…and collapses.

Steve is still sitting on his chair, not having expected Bucky to get up so fast. He lunges for Bucky, but barely manages to touch his shirt sleeve before Bucky’s on the ground, his head having missed the edge of the table by inches. The helmet is sitting quietly by Bucky’s chair, where he’d left it.

“Shit!” Steve scrambles over to Bucky and gently pulls him into his arms, waiting for him to come around.

He can see Alisha looking between her phone and Bucky. She’s probably monitoring Bucky’s vital signs from the monitoring patch he’s wearing. At least he was wearing one of the things he was supposed to be wearing.

When Bucky blinks his eyes open, Steve smiles down at him. “Hey, Buck. You had another seizure. Take your time, buddy. You remember where we are?”

Bucky makes a face and glances around. “I’m—I’m in my room. My new room. At the—at the rehab center.”

“That’s right. And you remember who this lady is?” Steve gestures at Alisha, who gives him a little wave.

“That’s—that’s Alisha,” Bucky mumbles, sounding exhausted.

“That’s great, Buck. How’s your headache?”

“I—yeah, I got a headache.”

Alisha takes a step closer. “Would you like me to go get you some medication, Bucky?”

“Okay. Thank you.” Then Bucky closes his eyes again and turns his head into Steve’s stomach. “I’m tired.”

“You wanna nap or you wanna eat dinner?”

“Nap. Just for—just for a little while.”

“Alright, let’s get you up on the bed.”

Steve struggles to help Bucky up while Alisha leaves the room. They manage to stumble to the bed and because Bucky is refusing to let go of him, Steve kicks off his shoes and lies down first, letting Bucky relax on top of him.

The door is still open and when there’s a soft knock on the door, Steve quietly calls for the person to enter.

It occurs to him that the reason Alisha can come and go out of the room is because she probably has key fobs to access all the patient rooms. Normally, the thought of other people having access to a place where Bucky is supposed to feel safe would be unsettling, but Steve doesn’t feel worried and Bucky doesn’t seem troubled by it either. His heart and gut just know that nobody here would hurt Bucky.

Alisha comes in with two pills and a bottle of water in her hand. Steve gets Bucky propped up and get him to open his eyes enough to swallow the pills. Bucky barely manages to get them down before collapsing on Steve’s chest and falling asleep.

“He’s had a big day already,” Alisha whispers, smiling down at Bucky.

Steve gently rubs Bucky’s back and leans down to kiss the top of his head. “Yeah.”

“Usually we have specific meal times in order to create set routines, but I’ve told the kitchen to put your meals aside for you. When you’re ready, just call down to reception and ask Dawn to get your food sent up.”

“Okay. Did you still want us to meet that new person?”

“No, not today. I’ll come by one more time to see how Bucky’s feeling and take a blood sample, but you two have done enough for the day. If Bucky’s going to be moving around, please have him wear the helmet. The faster he gets used to it, the safer he’ll be.”

Steve nods.

Bucky snuffles softly against Steve’s chest, his eyes closed. “Sorry I forgot about the helmet, Alisha,” he mumbles, surprising Steve and Alisha.

“I thought you were asleep, jerk,” Steve mumbles, tightening his arms around him.

“I am. I’m just talking in my—in my sleep.”

Steve and Alisha both chuckle.

“Well, enjoy your continued sleep-talking, Bucky. Don’t worry about the helmet, you’ll get used to it. I’ll see you in a few hours,” she says.

After Alisha leaves, Steve dozes a bit too and they sleep for about an hour. When Steve wakes up again, he finds that Bucky has slightly moved off Steve’s chest and he’s facing the window, staring outside.

Steve rolls over and drapes his arm over Bucky’s back, nuzzling the side of his head. “You love looking out there, huh? You remind me of Timmie from the mouse story. I should start calling you Bucky the Country Mouse.”

Bucky snorts a laugh and rolls onto his back, staring at Steve. Leaning up, he rubs his nose against Steve’s. “You don’t like the quiet though.”

“Nope. But you do and that’s what’s important.”

“We should—we should call you Stevie the Town Mouse.”

Steve laughs and flicks Bucky on the nose. Bucky grabs his hand and forces Steve to roll onto his back again so Bucky can prop himself on his chest. He’s not using his metal arm at all, letting it drag along on the bed, but he’s smiling and his eyes are sparkling.

Wrapping his arms around Bucky’s back, Steve grins at him. “How’s your headache?”

“Gone. I like Dr—Dr—Dr Joshua and Alisha.”

“Uh huh. The providers of headache pills and vanilla shakes. What a surprise. You ready for dinner?”

“Yup.”

“You wanna call down for it?”

Bucky frowns, looking worried. “I ain’t ever—ever used a telephone before.”

“I’ll teach you. But first—helmet.” Steve gets off the bed and grabs Bucky’s helmet from the floor by his chair. Bucky refuses to put it on himself, so Steve puts it on for him and they walk over to the phone.

Picking up the cordless phone, Steve holds up the phone. “This is a phone.”

“Uh huh. I’ve seen—I’ve seen them before, punk. I just ain’t ever used one.”

“You gotta either hold the phone to your ear and mouth to talk, or you have to put it on speakerphone.”

“I can’t put the phone to my ear when I’m wearing the helmet.”

Right. “Okay, so what do you wanna do?”

Bucky gestures at the chair by the table. It’s a standard chair without any arms, and Steve knows that’s not a chair that’ll keep Bucky upright if he has a seizure. “Buck, if you have a seizure, you’ll fall right outta this chair. You can either stay here and use the phone on speaker, or you can sit on your armchair or the bed and take the helmet off.”

Bucky makes a face. “I just—just put it on.”

“Then I’ll show you how to use the speakerphone.”

He demonstrates how to turn the phone on and how to switch it to speakerphone. Bucky startles when the loud ringtone suddenly becomes audible.

“I—I don’t—I don’t like that.”

Steve turns the phone off. “Once you start dialing, the loud noise will go away.” He demonstrates again how to turn the phone on, turn it to speaker and then push the button labelled ‘reception’. Holding out the phone towards Bucky, he gestures for him to sit at the desk.

Bucky gingerly takes the phone and perches on the chair.

“This is Dawn speaking. How can I help you, Bucky?”

Steve exchanges a startled look with Bucky through his face shield. “How—how did—how did you know my name?” Bucky says into the phone.

“Caller ID, although you may not be familiar with that concept, right? I saw your room number on the phone display when the phone rang, so I knew somebody from your room was calling and I took a guess that it was you.”

Once again, it’s so nice that Alisha had filled in everybody at the center about Bucky’s situation. Steve can’t imagine having to tell Bucky’s story over and over and over again. He hates doing that when it concerns his own situation, never mind Bucky’s. People’s shock and sympathy is understandable, but it really slows down conversations. Steve always feels like he has to support the people he’s talking to, never mind the fact that he asked them for help because he’s the one who’s overwhelmed. Having everybody here know about Bucky’s situation makes things a lot easier.

“I—I ain’t ever used a phone before. I don’t—I don’t know if I’m doing it right, ma’am.”

“You’re doing fine, Bucky. And you don’t have to call me ‘ma’am’, you can just call me Dawn. Did you have a question or do you need help with something?”

Bucky frowns and stares at Steve, obviously having forgotten why he’d called Dawn in the first place. Steve mimes eating, and Bucky’s frown clears. “Right! We—Steve and I would like our dinner, please. Alisha said to call you.”

“That’s right, and you did a great job. I’ll have somebody bring your dinner up. Great job on your first phone call, Bucky! You should be very proud of yourself.”

Bucky smiles bashfully and ducks his head, the helmet obscuring Steve’s view of his face. “Thank you, Dawn.”

“You’re welcome. Did you need anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

“Alright, have a good night.”

“You—you too. Thanks again.”

Steve hears the phone click on Dawn’s end, and then Bucky sits there, holding the phone and frowning at it.

“You gotta turn the phone off, Buck, or nobody else can call you. That’s real important.” He points at the button and Bucky carefully presses it, then he figures out how to put the phone back in its cradle.

Staring at the cradle in fascination, Bucky points at it. “The light went on.”

“Yeah. The phone don’t have any wires, right? It’s got batteries in it, so it needs to charge. If you don’t put the phone back on there every time, then it’ll run out of batteries and you can’t use it.”

“That’s—that’s good to know.” Bucky stands up and moves back to his favourite armchair. “Come sit with me, Rogers.”

Steve sits in his own chair, but it seems that Bucky has exhausted his desire to be independent for the day, because he immediately crawls into Steve’s lap. Once he’s comfortable, he reaches up for his helmet strap, but then hesitates. “I’m gonna—gonna have to put it back on when dinner comes. I’m gonna keep it on.”

“Okay. But you can flip the face shield up, if you want.”

“Nah. I can still see outside.”

Dinner arrives a few minutes later, and Steve helps Bucky eat. Right when he’s putting the cart with the trays back outside, he sees Alisha coming towards him, carrying a small bag.

“Hi, Steve. I’ve come to bother Bucky one more time. I need that blood sample before he goes to sleep.”

Bucky seems to be in a good mood after the dinner, and after taking off his helmet and curling up with Steve on the bed, he enthusiastically holds out his metal arm towards Alisha when she asks to see his arm.

That makes all three of them laugh and Steve gently smacks Bucky on the butt. “Wisecracker, Barnes.”

“That—that was a good one, huh?”

“It really was,” Alisha says, laughing.

She takes her blood sample and then tell them to have a good night. She’ll bring them breakfast in the morning and tell them what the plans for the day will be.

After Alisha has left, Steve helps Bucky have a bath. He’s happy to see that the bathtub has been lined with a soft material that makes it safer for Bucky to bathe himself and there’s a stool in the tub that Bucky could use if he doesn’t want to sit on the tub floor. Bucky has no desire to bathe himself tonight, but when he does—because Steve hopes that he’ll eventually want to do it himself—he won’t hurt himself if he has a seizure while in the tub. After Steve’s taken a turn in the tub and they’ve brushed their teeth, they go to bed and Steve reads them a story.

Bucky insists on keeping the curtains open so he can keep looking outside. They turn off the lights and Steve keeps the glow of the e-reader low so Bucky can watch the dark trees gently swaying in the breeze while he’s lying on Steve’s chest. They read half of ‘The Story of Doctor Dolittle’ before Bucky’s eyes are falling shut, so it’s time for sleeping.

Steve put the e-reader on the bedside table and strokes the back of his fingers against Bucky’s cheek. “I’m real proud of how good you did today. You were real brave.”

“I’m proud of both of us,” Bucky mumbles.

Smiling, Steve leans down and brushes his nose against Bucky’s. “You wanna sing the star song before we go to sleep?”

“Uh huh. But I’m tired.”

“Okay, I’ll do it. You want all five verses?”

“Uh huh.”

Chuckling, Steve lies back against his pillow, clears his throat and starts to sing. “Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are…”

When he’s done the song, Steve kisses Bucky’s forehead and tucks the blanket around Bucky’s arms. “Good night, Buck,” he whispers.

“Night, Stevie. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's helmet is the Danmar Hard Shell helmet. You can see it [here](https://www.rehabmart.com/product/danmar-hard-shell-helmet-with-face-guard-31605.html).


	12. Chapter 12

It’s the gentle shaking of the bed that wakes Steve. His memory wakes before the rest of him does and he immediately recognizes what’s happening. He and Bucky have shared a bed for many, many years and with that comes a certain lack of privacy when it comes to some bodily functions. When Steve blinks his eyes open, he sees that it’s still dark outside and the small digital clock on the bedside table tells him they’ve only been sleeping for a few hours.

Bucky’s face is pressed into the space between Steve’s side and his arm and he can feel the gusts of Bucky’s warm breath getting faster. The bed rocks gently and there’s a quiet rustle of the bed sheets as Bucky thrusts his hips.

Not only is this whole thing adorably familiar—maybe others wouldn’t think of it as adorable, but it’s completely normal to Steve—but he’s glad that certain parts of Bucky are waking up again. Bucky hasn’t shown or expressed any…physical desire since Steve had rescued him. Steve had feared that maybe the brain damage or cryostasis had done some permanent damage, but it seems his fears were misplaced.

He shifts a bit, ready to roll over and give Bucky some privacy, but the second he moves, Bucky’s head comes up and he grins at Steve, his eyes dark with arousal.

“Hey, Stevie. Guess what? I had a real nice dream. A real—real nice one.” Then he slings a leg over Steve’s and his hard cock is pressing against Steve’s hip, which gets Steve achingly hard within two seconds. To make matters worse, Bucky’s leg is right against his cock, which means he can feel it.

Steve can barely breathe. Arousal has hit him like a gut punch and he’s already thrusting against Bucky’s leg before he’s even aware he’s doing it.

And by the lewdness that appears in Bucky’s grin, he can definitely feel it. “You had a nice dream too, huh? Oh, this is—this is good.”

At Bucky’s words, Steve’s brain shifts a little back to reality and freezes. “Buck,” he manages to get out between clenched teeth. “Get off me.”

Doing the exactly opposite, Bucky shifts his leg so it’s pressing even harder against Steve’s aching cock and he shifts against Steve’s hip, rubbing himself against him. “I got a situation here, Rogers.”

“I—I know. I do too. So—”

“So, you gotta help me.”

Steve stares at Bucky, who’s grinning bashfully up at him. “I— _what?!_ ”

“You take care of me, right? That’s what—that’s what you do. And I want you to take care of me.”

A cold shudder runs down Steve’s back and while that doesn’t kill his arousal completely, his brain fully returns to reality. He sits up, shoves Bucky’s leg off himself and gets out of bed, stumbling a bit. Moonlight is shining through the uncovered window and Steve feels weirdly exposed but there’s no way he can get back into bed right now.

Bucky laughs when he sees how Steve’s pajama pants are being tented by his still hard cock. “You can’t just walk ‘round with that, Rogers. You—you’re gonna get arrested.” He pats the spot on the mattress where Steve had lain moments ago. “Come back here. You wanna help me, don’t you? It’ll be—it’ll be fun, you’ll see.”

Steve stares at him and feels sick but also angry. Bucky is treating this whole thing as a joke, or as a casual thing, which it’s not. “That’s—I can’t—that’s something you gotta take of yourself. I ain’t gonna do it.”

Bucky blinks at the anger in Steve’s voice. “Why—why—why are you angry? You—you—I—why—I—” He sits up slowly, frowning in confusion and Steve can tell he’s annoyed that he can’t find the right words.

“If this is a joke, it ain’t funny, Barnes. And if you’re serious, then that’s—that’s completely inappropriate. We take care of each other, but not—not like that. We don’t—we don’t do that.” Steve wishes they did—he wishes they always had—but this is the truth and Bucky being flippant about it is upsetting.

Bucky’s still frowning and he looks even more upset. “I didn’t—I—I just—I—I—I wanted—” Punching the mattress, Bucky hits the side of his head with the heel of his hand, as if he’s trying to jar the words loose. “I—I—damn it!—I—I didn’t—”

Sitting down on the bed, Steve grabs Bucky’s hand and squeezes it. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I got mad. Just relax, okay? Take some breaths and let’s calm down and then we can talk about it.”

Bucky still looks upset. “I—I—I—”

Steve gently grabs Bucky’s face, rubbing his cheeks with his thumbs and brushing his hair behind his ears. “I know you’re upset that you can’t find the words, but you’ll find ‘em when you calm down, right? Let’s calm down. I ain’t mad, I promise. You just surprised me and we gotta talk about what happened, but I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry.”

Bucky closes his eyes and focuses on breathing, slowly calming down as Steve touches his face. Normally, he’d pull Bucky into his arms to offer more comfort, but he needs to keep him at a distance if they’re going to have the conversation that they need to have.

Finally, Bucky is calm and staring sadly at Steve. “Okay. I think I’m—I’m okay now.”

“Can we talk about what happened?”

Bucky looks upset. “I didn’t—I didn’t wanna upset you.”

“When you said you wanted me to help you with…that, were you serious or were you making a joke?”

“Uh—both, I guess? I thought you’d find it funny, but I also thought you wouldn’t mind. I love it when you take care of me. I love it when you touch me and do things for me and it makes me feel so good. I just didn’t think this was any different from—from you feeding me.”

Steve sighs softly. “Maybe for some people it wouldn’t be any different. But that’s the thing...for me, it’s very, very different.”

“But why? We’ve known each other our whole lives. It ain’t…it ain’t embarrassing and it would make me feel good.”

“It ain’t about that,” Steve says softly. He releases Bucky’s face because he thinks it’ll be better to finish this conversation without such an intimate gesture. Instead, he gently takes Bucky’s hand in both of his and holds it. “The thing is—if we were just best friends and I just loved you like a friend, then you’re right—doing things like that would be no big deal. Maybe for others it would be, but not for us. We ain’t ever been shy about our bodies in front of each other, right?”

“Uh huh. So why…?”

Steve smiles sadly. Here it goes. “Because I love you. It’s different for me cause I love you.”

Bucky frowns. “I know. I love you too. You told me last night. My memory’s got—got holes in it, but it ain’t that bad.”

“That’s not what I mean. When you say you love me, you mean it like a friend. But my love for you is different. I love you the way that two men ain’t supposed to love each other.”

Bucky blinks and stares at him. “Really?”

“Uh huh.”

“I—but—why?”

Steve chuckles. “Barnes, anybody’s who’s ever met you knows why. You’re amazing in every single way that a person can be amazing.”

“Did—did this start when you saved me?”

Steve snorts. “No. I’ve been in love with you since we were teenagers. I think I was about 14? I don’t really remember.”

Bucky’s eyes widen. “14? That’s a long time.”

“Yup,” Steve says, gently squeezing Bucky’s hand. “But listen, it don’t gotta change anything, okay? I might love you the way I ain’t supposed to, but I also love you in the normal way that you love me. I don’t need anything to change between us. But I gotta ask you to respect my feelings and you gotta realize that asking me to help you with…certain things of an intimate nature would be real hard for me. If it were a medical issue and I had to do it, then of course I would. But it would hurt my heart to do it when it don’t mean the same thing to you.”

Bucky’s eyes are darting around as he absorbs this information. “Do—do you mind taking care of me in other ways? Is it too hard?”

“No! No, but I think it would be good if you started doing some things on your own. Just so you can get more confident and independent.”

“But I like it when you take care of me.”

Steve gently grabs Bucky’s face. “I know. And I love taking care of you too. I like making you feel happy and I’ll do anything to make that happen, but please don’t ask me to do something that’ll hurt me.”

Bucky nods. “Okay. I’m real sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t know.”

“I’m still sorry. I don’t—I don’t like seeing you upset.”

“I know.”

Now that they’re both calmer, Steve’s lost his own erection, but he doesn’t want to deprive Bucky of his body’s newly recovered milestone. “If you wanna finish what you started, I can go to the bathroom and brush my teeth real slow.”

Bucky chuckles. “Nah. It’s gone.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Not your fault. I shouldn’t—shouldn’t have assumed. Is yours gone too?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Then neither of them seem to know what to say, so Steve eventually suggests they get back to sleep. “We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”

Bucky seems timid as they lie back down and Steve pulls Bucky against his chest, but Steve kisses the top of his head and wraps his arms around him. “Ain’t nothing gonna change, Barnes. Nothing.”

That makes Bucky let out a sigh and he slowly relaxes against Steve and eventually falls back to sleep.

* * *

When they wake up in the morning, both of their minds are focused on what they’ll be doing today and neither of them bring up what had happened during the night.

An hour after they’ve woken up, there’s a knock on their door and Alisha comes in after Bucky calls for her to enter, who has brought four breakfast trays. Steve frowns at the fourth tray and Alisha smiles when she sees his stare. After exchanging greetings and other pleasantries, Alisha asks Bucky if he’s willing to get his seizure medication now, or if he wants to go down to the medical wing.

“We can do it here,” Bucky tells her.

“Dr. Joshua has increased your dosage, since your blood test from last night indicates that you’d metabolized most of it within just a few hours. We’ll try this higher dose and I’ll take several blood samples during the day to see how things go. Once we figure out your metabolism rate, we can figure out how much medication you’ll need in each dose and hopefully then we’ll start seeing some results.”

After she gives Bucky his medication, she gestures at the cart of breakfast trays. “I thought you’d like to meet a very important member of your care team this morning, Bucky. But if you’re not in the mood, then we can move the meeting until later.”

Bucky’s sitting on Steve’s lap at the table and Steve’s arms are wrapped around him, so Bucky’s in a great mood. “Now’s good.”

Alisha goes back to the door and returns with a middle-aged Asian-American man. He’s as muscular as Steve and his first thought is that the man must be a security guard.

“Bucky, Steve, this is Wen. He’s a nurse and he’ll be a very important part of your routine.”

“But I—but I thought you were my nurse.”

“I am, but I’m mostly involved in your medical needs and coordinating with your other team members. Wen will help you with some daily tasks.”

Wen steps forward and extends his hand. Steve shakes it and greets the man, but when Wen turns his hand to Bucky, Bucky gives no indication that he cares about Wen’s presence. He’s frowning at Alisha, and he’s getting tense. Steve knows Bucky has caught onto Alisha’s careful wording choices. “But Steve helps me with—with daily—with daily tasks.”

“I know he does, but when Steve is busy with other things, then Wen can help you with those tasks.”

“Steve ain’t—Steve ain’t—he—I—”

Steve tightens his arms around Bucky and brings his lips close to Bucky’s ear. “Shhh, calm down. Remember your manners. Shake Wen’s hand, say hi and let’s eat breakfast. We can talk about this after breakfast.”

“But I—you—I don’t—you—”

Alisha turns to Wen. “Let’s get the breakfast trays set up. Bucky, let me get you your helmet and then you can sit on your own chair. That’ll be wonderful, you’ll see. You’ll have much more room. Steve, can you help Wen with the trays?”

Steve knows for a fact that Wen doesn’t need help with the trays, but he also knows that Alisha is trying to gently put some physical distance between him and Bucky.

Wen starts arranging the trays, moving very slowly. Bucky frowns unhappily and clings to Steve’s arms. “I don’t wanna—I don’t—Steve—”

Steve feels like he’s a rope being tugged in opposite directions. On one hand, he wants to tighten his grip around Bucky and reassure him that he never has to do anything he doesn’t want to do, and they can sit right here until the end of time. But would that really help Bucky?

This is exactly why Bucky needs to do this program. Steve’s love for Bucky will always overrule his attempts to push him and make him be more independent if Bucky doesn’t want to be. Alisha’s heart doesn’t break anytime Bucky shows signs of being upset and she doesn’t feel guilty if Bucky gets upset with her.

Steve knows Alisha isn’t asking Bucky to do something outlandish. She’s just asking him to sit in the chair that’s a foot away from Steve. These chairs are closer together than the ones by the window are and Bucky had sat on his own in that chair yesterday. But this is about a lot more than just one foot of space.

Kissing the side of Bucky’s head, Steve releases his grip around him and starts to stand up, despite Bucky’s attempts to stop him. “I gotta help Wen with the trays. Look, Alisha brought you your helmet.”

Alisha is patting the chair next to Steve’s and puts Bucky’s helmet on the table. “Have a seat, Bucky. Let’s have you put on your helmet and we’ll eat breakfast and talk about the day. We have lots of exciting things planned for today.”

Bucky doesn’t want to release him, so Steve ends up having to tear his arm out of Bucky’s grip and physically step back from him. The look of disbelief and betrayal that Bucky sends him makes Steve’s heart ache and he’s moments away from sitting back down, apologizing and letting Bucky curl on his lap.

Wen saves him by shoving a stack of napkins at him. “Here, Steve. Can you put a few of these on each tray? There’s not a lot of room, so can you fold them a bit?”

Moving numbly, Steve sees his hands taking the napkins, slowly folding each one and putting them on the trays. He knows folding the napkins isn’t necessary and Wen is just trying to keep him busy.

In the meantime, Bucky has thrown himself dramatically onto the other chair and he’s glaring at Alisha while she holds out the helmet.

“Great job, Bucky! Can you put on the helmet, please? I’m very worried that you might have a seizure and hurt yourself. You know that’s not a secure chair.”

“If—if I—if I had Steve then—then—then—”

“I know—then Steve wouldn’t let you fall, would he? Of course not. But Steve’s busy with the napkins right now. But that's okay, the helmet will keep you safe, but it’s gotta be on your head for it to work.”

After some more glaring, Bucky sighs angrily, grabs the helmet and jams it on his head.

Steve thinks maybe Bucky got tired of fighting, or he started to realize he’s acting like a two year old child, but whatever the reason, the helmet is on his head. Bucky struggles a bit to snap the straps on with just one hand, and Alisha shows him how to hold the strap and close it at the same time.

Once it’s on, Alisha beams at him. “Great job! Oh, that’s fantastic! I can’t believe you only got the helmet yesterday and you’re already putting it on by yourself! That’s great! Isn’t that great, Steve? Wen?”

Steve grins at Bucky as he and Wen finish putting the trays down. “You did fantastic, pal. I’m real proud of you.”

Wen nods and smiles kindly. “Good job, Bucky. I’m very impressed.”

Bucky glares at Wen and stares at Steve with such betrayal in his gaze that Steve barely recognizes him behind the face shield.

After Alisha puts Bucky’s tray down in front of him and Steve sits back on his own chair, Bucky unsnaps the face shield and violently yanks it up, glaring at Steve. Then he points at the eggs on his plate. “I wanna do those first. Do—do those first.”

Usually Steve would snap back at Bucky’s rudeness and tell him to ask politely, but he knows how stressful this whole morning has already been for Bucky and he doesn’t want to make things worse. Stuffing a mouthful of eggs into his own mouth, he reaches over to Bucky’s plate with his own fork and scoops up a bit of the scrambled eggs. Bucky leans forward and opens his mouth expectantly—and that’s when Alisha gives Steve a smile.

“Steve, why don’t you focus on your own breakfast? Bucky can eat his own eggs, but if he prefers, he can just eat the toast or the ham.”

Steve’s hand freezes, and again he’s being pulled in two different directions. What Alisha is suggesting isn’t unrealistic and it’s something Bucky should be doing…but Bucky will get even more upset if Steve goes against their routine.

Bucky glares at Alisha. “I—I—Steve takes care—takes care of me! He feeds me my food! I—I—Steve takes—he takes—he takes care of me!”

Alisha doesn’t seem swayed by Bucky’s anger. “I understand that. But you’re capable of eating your own food. Being independent is very important and you need more practice. This is a—”

Bucky slams his fist onto the table—thankfully not the metal one—knocking over his glass of juice while glaring at Alisha. “I don’t—! I don’t—! Steve—I—you don’t—I—Steve—”

Wen and Steve both scramble for napkins to mop up the spilled juice and Alisha rights the glass without taking her eyes off Bucky.

Steve sighs as he drops the soggy napkins on his tray. “Buck, calm down. I’ll help you ea—”

Alisha holds up a finger in Steve’s direction, but she maintains eye contact with a furious Bucky. “Steve, please don’t interrupt. Focus on your own breakfast.”

At some kind of signal from Alisha, Wen leans forward and tries to engage Steve in conversation. “So, you’re from Brooklyn, Steve? I have an aunt who lives in Queens but I haven’t been out that way for a while. Have you seen Brooklyn since you came out of the ice?”

Steve stares at Wen. Next to him, Alisha is trying to calmly explain to Bucky that he has a choice. He can eat breakfast by himself or have a vanilla shake, but Steve won’t be feeding him. Bucky doesn’t even pretend to listen to her, shouting back a random collection of words that don’t have enough context to make sense.

Steve can barely string together enough of his own words to reply to Wen’s question. “I—uhm, yeah, I’ve been to Brooklyn a few times.”

“The rent’s outrageous these days, huh?”

“Uh…”

Bucky’s angry yelling easily drowns out whatever Steve’s trying to say. “I don’t—I don’t—you can’t—I don’t like this! You—you—I—I don’t—” Bucky’s started crying now, his tears choking the few words he manages to yell.

Steve’s heart is shattering into pieces and he’s close to tears too. Bucky’s in such pain and Steve could fix that pain in seconds by feeding him breakfast...but that would create even more pain in Bucky’s future. No matter what Steve does, he can’t make the situation better for Bucky and that’s heart breaking. But he’s also in complete shock at Bucky’s behavior.

“I can’t understand you when you’re shouting like this, Bucky,” Alisha tells him, her tone still as calm as it’s been throughout the entire conversation. “I need you to calm down and tell me if you want to eat your breakfast or have a vanilla shake instead.”

“I—you—I don’t—” Bucky sobs out and slams his fist on the table again.

Wen takes a bite of his toast. “My aunt’s been looking for a new place, but she just can’t find anything in her price range.”

Steve can’t focus on the conversation that Wen is trying to have with him. He keeps his eyes glued on Wen because he’s afraid Alisha will yell at him if he looks at Bucky. His heart break is rapidly being pushed aside by the shock he’s in. He can’t believe Bucky’s making such a ridiculous fuss over this. He loves the vanilla shakes. He drinks them on his own all the time so Alisha is giving him an easy way out. But he’s refusing to stop yelling and making a fuss.

And Steve just can’t get over the fact that this whole thing had been started by Bucky—who has been feeding himself since he was old enough to walk—becoming upset that Steve is refusing to feed him like he’s a toddler.

It’s one thing for Bucky gently manipulate Steve into doing it for him because Bucky likes that comfort, but making such a fuss is completely out of character for him.

Steve thinks maybe he’s having a nightmare. This can’t possibly be Bucky Barnes.

Bucky’s yelling and crying continues, Alisha’s attempts to calm the situation are going nowhere and Steve struggles to keep up with Wen’s attempts to distract him—when everything comes to a screeching halt by Bucky shoving his entire breakfast tray off the table.

The plate, cutlery and glass go flying, food goes everywhere and Steve’s heart nearly stops. The remainders of the orange juice sprays across the floor and the bedspread, the eggs fly all over the bed too and the ham and toast land on the floor with the tray, plate and cutlery.

“Jesus Christ! Barnes! What the hell?!” Steve leaps off his chair and reaches over to grab Bucky, shake some sense into him and demand to know what the hell is wrong with him. This whole thing is ridiculous! He’s seen Bucky get upset a thousand times, but he’s never seen him have such a temper tantrum.

Bucky is still angrily sobbing, but he’s stopped attempting to form any words.

Steve stares at him. With horror, he realizes he can’t recognize the love of his life anymore, and it’s not just because of the helmet. Bucky is sitting there, sobbing loudly, his face covered in tears and snot, looking like a little child in a grown man’s body.

Cold dread runs down Steve’s back. He thought he’d gotten Bucky back, but this—this isn’t Bucky. Who the hell is this screaming, crying child? And how is Steve supposed to deal with this situation? Tears flood his eyes and he’s so scared that he’s shaking. He feels a hand on his arm and he glances down to see it’s Wen.

“Come outside with me, Steve. Let’s let Alisha handle this, okay? You need to take a break.”

Steve clenches his jaw so he doesn’t burst into tears and numbly follows Wen out into the hall. His back hits the wall beside the door and he slides to the floor, his legs splayed out in front of him, shaking.

Wen closes the door, sits down next to him and hands him a wad of napkins. “Take your time. I know this is very hard.”

Steve struggles to breathe. “He—he wasn’t like this before,” he chokes out in a shaky whisper. “I don’t know who that person in there is. That’s not—I never thought—I don’t know who that person is.” That’s when the tears overwhelm his self-control and he bursts into tears, sobbing.

Wen pats his arm comfortingly and lets Steve sit there and cry, his heart aching and that fear still gnawing at him.

After a few minutes, Steve feels a bit calmer and dabs his eyes with the napkins. He realizes this entire setup—having Alisha and Wen both come to breakfast, having Alisha encourage Bucky to eat his own breakfast and having Wen pull Steve out of the room—must have been carefully planned. He’s not too sure if it’ll accomplish what they want as far as Bucky’s concerned, but he’s assuming Wen is here to help him. And that’s good because the more Steve calms down, the more humiliating this entire situation is.

He gives Wen a watery smile. “This is so embarrassing. We met you five minutes ago, and I’m a crying mess and Buck’s not—that’s not really Buck.” Steve’s throat threatens to squeeze shut again as he feels a new wave of tears come. “I just wish you could meet the real Buck. That person in there ain’t Buck. Not really.”

Wen gives him a kind smile. “Don’t be embarrassed. Seeing these types of interactions are part of my daily life. They’re unusual for you and Bucky, but not for me.”

“I just can’t believe he’s acting like this,” Steve whispers in a shaky voice. “He’s the most independent and wonderful fella I know—not this two year old child having a temper tantrum.”

“Bucky’s suffered quite a bit of brain damage. The brain is a very complex thing and drastic personality changes aren’t unusual when somebody suffers a traumatic brain injury.”

That makes Steve feel worse and tears are running down his face again. “But I just got him back and I didn’t think that he wouldn’t be himself. I knew he’d be a bit different—I’m different too—but not…not different like this.” He waves a hand towards the room on the other side of the wall he’s leaning against. “I don’t know how to handle this.”

Wen squeezes his arm. “Steve, look at me for a second.”

With difficulty, Steve wipes his eyes and looks at Wen.

“I think you never allowed yourself to grieve over Bucky’s loss. When you discovered he was alive, you thought you’d find him and you’d pick up where the two of you left off in 1944, right?”

“I guess so,” Steve mumbles.

“Even though you did get Bucky back, I think you need to take steps to deal with the loss you suffered. Just because the loss wasn’t permanent doesn’t mean it didn’t have a profound effect on you. If you don’t deal with it, you’ll continue hoping that Bucky will somehow revert back to being the person he was in 1944. That’s not fair to him and it’s not healthy for you because that’s never going to happen.”

Steve makes a face. “I know that, but I still wish—”

“I know you do. But clinging to that dead hope is only going to stall your own recovery and it’ll end up negatively impacting Bucky’s.”

That makes a little of that anger flare up in his gut. “So I’m supposed to just accept that this Bucky is the new one?”

“Yes and no. You need to accept that Bucky will never be the exact same person he was in 1944. Too much has happened and at least some of his brain damage will probably be permanent. Even if he wanted to be the same person, he couldn’t be. But that’s the point of him being here. If he stayed with you, he would start to realize that you want him to be the same Bucky and he’d feel pressured to be that old Bucky and he’d feel guilty when he can’t do it. He won’t feel that pressure when he’s here.”

“I don’t—” Steve wipes his eyes and takes a shaky breath. “I don’t want him to pretend to be the old Bucky. I just don’t want him being so…difficult.”

“As far as these temper tantrums go, it’s very common behavior for people suffering from brain injury and we’re going to do our best to teach Bucky how to move past them. Just because he won’t ever be the same Bucky as before doesn’t mean we won’t try to help him be as independent and well-adjusted as possible. That’s another reason he needs to be here. We can assess his behavior, correct where necessary and give him adaptations that will allow him to interact with society in the best way he can. I won’t make any promises, but if Bucky is willing to give the program a try and if things go well, he’ll be a completely new person in six months. He won’t be the old Bucky, but he won’t be the person you just saw in that room.”

Wen’s words are a cooling balm on a painful burn. Steve already feels better and it’s been less than 5 minutes. But just because he understands what their plans are, doesn’t mean Bucky will cooperate. “I know Alisha said it’s important for Bucky to do the program on his own, but you see what he’s like when I don’t help him. If I leave him here alone, he won’t cooperate.”

Wen smiles. “Trust me, we’ve handled people who are a lot more uncooperative than Bucky and we’ve gotten through to them. This is what we do for a living. But Bucky’s separation anxiety is absolutely something we need to work on. He’s an adult and capable of taking care of himself. Wanting to be close to you because he cares about you and enjoys your company is fine, but wanting to be close to you because he’s scared to be on his own or he’s scared of being around other people isn’t good. Having you stay here would make it very difficult for us to address that problem. We have the techniques and skills to help Bucky move past these negative behaviors and learn new, healthy ones. You just have to trust us.”

Steve sighs. “It’s hard. I hate seeing him upset and feeling like I’m abandoning him.”

“But you aren’t. Right now, his emotional reactions to certain situations aren’t appropriate. He’s not thinking clearly and he’s allowing his gut reactions to guide his responses to situations, which leads to these tantrums. Children do this too, but we teach them how to respond more appropriately and they gradually grow out of it. Unfortunately, sometimes brain injuries can make us forget those lessons. He’ll get there and it’ll take time, but your role in this is critical.”

For the first time, Steve’s beginning to understand how important his role in Bucky’s recovery will be. “I gotta convince him you’re the good guys, right?”

“It’s much more than that. Bucky’s entire care team has signed onto a plan—not literally, but you understand what I mean—that promises we will do everything in our power to move Bucky’s recovery forward. Do you know what’s usually our biggest stumbling block?”

Steve wants to guess ‘the patient’, but he knows the answer. “The person’s loved ones, right?”

“Yeah. They allow their emotions to guide their actions, much like the patient. But while we spend time teaching the patient to only respond with appropriate emotions and how to ignore the inappropriate ones, their loved ones don’t do that. They feel guilty or upset when their loved one is upset. They don’t stop to understand that the patient being upset is part of the process and instead, they allow their love for their loved one to shelter them. They pull them out of the center, take them home and live a life just like what you witnessed at breakfast this morning. Only, it gets worse, because they give in to their loved one constantly. Their loved one becomes completely dependent on them, and the family accepts the abuse and inappropriate behavior that they’re subjected to. None of that is healthy for anybody.”

It’s exactly what Sam had told him. “So my love would really be pushing both of us into a life of misery.”

“Yes. But that love is also a positive force that can be used to help him. Your love is what brought you and Bucky both here. Bucky will try to use your love as a weapon to get what he wants, but you have to understand that he isn’t fully capable of making the best decisions for himself right now. You have to stay strong and you have to stay as a united front with the rest of the care team. Without that, Bucky’s entire future is in jeopardy.”

That does a sufficient job of scaring Steve. He can’t imagine looking back twenty years from now and having Bucky living like a two-year old child all because Steve wasn’t strong enough to do what he needed to do. For the first time in his life, what Bucky wants won’t be what Bucky needs, and Steve must focus on what he needs. But that means there will be many fights in his future. “Oh, Buck ain’t gonna like this.”

Wen smiles. “No, but don’t worry. This is why we want to get you out of firing range as quickly as possible. Let Bucky take out his frustration and anger on us. You don’t deserve that, nor do you have the training to deal with it.”

Steve snorts. “You want me to just walk out right now? He’ll walk out right after me.”

Wen chuckles. “No, not right now. I agree that Bucky wouldn’t tolerate it at this point. But follow Alisha’s plan for the next few days. She’ll set up strict rules and even if Bucky breaks them or tries to get you to break them, you have to stay strong. Always remind yourself that you’re doing what Bucky needs for his long-term recovery. That is what love is—not giving in every two seconds and stalling Bucky’s long-term progress.”

Sighing, Steve prepares himself to get up and face whatever is waiting for him back inside the room. He can’t hear any noise from the room…but since he’s sure Bucky hadn’t stopped yelling the second he’d walked out of the room, he assumes the walls are soundproof.

While he mentally prepares himself, the door opens and Bucky comes out and stops by Steve’s feet, staring down at him. He’s still wearing his white helmet and Steve can see that his eyes are swollen from crying, but he’s not crying anymore. In fact, he’d pulled the face shield back down and secured it.

“Hey, Stevie,” he mumbles.

“Hey, Buck. How you feeling?”

Bucky makes a face and ducks his head down, making it harder for Steve to see his face through the shield. “I’m—I’m embarrassed. I wanna—” Raising his head, he looks at Steve. He looks upset and also embarrassed—which is the way he’s always looked when he was being a twit and later realized he was being a twit. “I wanna apologize. I’m real—real sorry for getting so mad. I had—I had no right to—to get that mad and I behaved ina—inappropriately. I’m sorry.”

Then he turns to Wen. “Wen, I’m real sorry for how I behaved. I hope—I hope you ain’t got the wrong—the wrong first impression of me.”

Steve can tell that Bucky’s words are rehearsed. Maybe Alisha told him what to say, or helped him practice before he came out here. Either way, it’s impressive that Bucky came out on his own to apologize.

Wen stands up and holds out his hand. “No worries, Bucky. Let’s start again. My name is Wen and I’m part of your care team.”

Shaking his hand, Bucky gives him a small smile, but Steve can tell he’s still upset at himself. “I’m Bucky. It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me ‘sir’.” Wen points at Bucky’s room. “I’m gonna head inside and get back to breakfast. Why don’t you and Steve join us when you’re ready?”

After Wen goes into the room and shuts the door behind him, Bucky and Steve are the only ones left in the hallway. Bucky kneels down by Steve’s legs. “I’m real sorry. I was a stupid twit and—and I’m just sorry.”

Steve stares at him. “Why did you get so mad? I know you like it when I feed you, but all you had to say was ‘no, I ain’t ready for that’ and Alisha would have probably backed off. But you completely lost it. You yelled and cried and threw the tray. You made a huge fuss.”

Bucky cringes and ducks his head again. “I know. I’m so damn em—embarrassed. I wasn’t angry at first, I just got real anxious when Alisha told me I should eat on my own.”

That confuses Steve. “Why? You know you can eat on your own.”

“I know. I don’t—I don’t get it. My head knows that me eating by myself is fine—I like it when you feed me, but it’s not—not necessary, but I just got real anxious. And then I got angry cause I was anxious. I don’t know why. I can’t—I can’t really explain it. It just happened so quick. I wasn’t even really—really aware I was getting mad.”

Steve sighs softly. “I think it’s the brain damage, Buck. That’s what Wen said.”

“Yeah. Alisha said the—said the same thing. She says my reactions to things ain’t always appropriate and I gotta—gotta work on that. She says they have brain doctors who will help with that.”

That’s an opening Steve can use. “You think you’d be willing to let the brain doctor help you?”

Bucky sighs softly. “Yeah. I gotta. After Alisha calmed me down and I looked around, I was so embarrassed, but also scared. I—Stevie, I—that ain’t—that ain’t who I am. That—that person who got so scared and angry—that’s not—that’s not who I wanna be.”

Steve reaches for his hand and squeezes it. “I don’t want you to be that person either. I—” He’s on the verge of saying that he wants the old Bucky back, but that would be putting pressure on Bucky, exactly like Wen told him not to. “—I want you to be somebody you’re happy being.”

“That’s what I want too. But I think—I think that’s why I gotta do this program. These people, they can really help me. I wanna be the best Bucky Barnes I can be. For you, for me, for everybody else. And Alisha and my—and my care team can help me with that.”

A weight is suddenly lifted from Steve’s chest. Just like that, Bucky understands what this program can do for him and he understands how important it is. Steve chuckles, feeling relieved. “I was scared you’d wanna leave and I wouldn’t know what to do.”

Bucky smiles sadly. Reaching up, he carefully unsnaps the face shield and swings it out of the way. Leaning over, he kisses Steve on the cheek. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Steve really wants Bucky to hug him so he pulls Bucky into his arms and rests his face on Bucky’s shoulder, breathing in his scent. Bucky carefully wraps his arm around Steve and rubs his back, the metal arm hanging by his side. “It’s okay, Stevie. It’s gonna be okay.”

And for the first time since he’d rescued Bucky, Steve is the one getting comforted, rather than the other way around. Together with Bucky’s words about wanting to do the program, it re-ignites Steve’s hope for the future.


	13. Chapter 13

When Bucky taps the fob against the door to unlock it and they walk back into their room, Steve is surprised to see that everything has been cleaned up. There are wet spots on the floor where they’d cleaned up the spilled food and the bed linens are bunched up by the door, but there aren’t any signs of the disaster that had taken place.

Bucky must see him looking around, because he cringes again. “Alisha helped me clean up. I have to—have to call Dawn later to bring us new bed linens. I can practice using the phone again.”

When Steve sits down at the table, he sees that Alisha has distributed the leftover breakfast food among the four plates. Alisha and Wen are already sitting down, eating their food and quietly talking.

Steve reaches for his cutlery, then freezes, looking back and forth between Bucky and Alisha. He has no idea what the two of them had agreed to. Due to the stress of this morning, is it okay for Steve to feed Bucky? Should Steve even suggest it? Should he ask Alisha what he should do?

But while he’s debating what to do, Bucky picks up his fork and starts eating his eggs. He’s holding the fork very tightly—it occurs to Steve that this is the first time in 70 years that Bucky has held cutlery—and he’s moving slowly, but he’s doing it himself.

Steve can’t help but stare, his hand frozen over his own fork.

Alisha turns away from Wen and smiles at Bucky. “Great job, Bucky! How do you like the eggs?”

Bucky chews and gives her a smile. “They’re good. I like ‘em.”

“I’m glad! Steve, how’s your breakfast?”

Steve knows Alisha must have noticed he hasn’t touched his food yet, but her words tear him away from gaping at Bucky and he picks up his fork. “I’ll let you know in a second,” he says.

Without discussing it, the three of them slow their eating pace to match Bucky’s. Bucky often hesitates when switching between food items, as if he can’t decide which one to eat, but he does very well.

Once breakfast is done, Bucky insists on putting his tray back on the cart by himself. He even remembers to put the face shield down before he gets up. Once his own tray is on the cart, he asks Wen if he can move his too, and he ends up bringing all of their trays to the cart one by one and carefully putting them down.

Steve can’t get over what he’s seeing. Bucky’s acted more independent in the last half an hour than he has since Steve has found him. This is also the longest that Bucky has gone without clinging to Steve.

Steve does miss the physical closeness, but this is much better than the alternative. It makes him shudder that he’d seriously considered keeping him and Bucky in their hotel room and continuing to live as they were living for the rest of their lives, just because he enjoys taking care of Bucky. That’s not a healthy life for either of them. But this _is_ the beginning of a healthy life. Steve can feel it in his heart.

When Bucky’s sitting down again, he’s smiling proudly and his grin widens when he sees Steve staring at him.

That makes Steve smile too and he gently kicks Bucky’s feet. “That was great, Barnes! Look what you just did!”

Bucky blushes and ducks his head down, hiding behind the shield. “It ain’t such a big deal.”

Wen smiles at him. “No, it’s a very big deal, Bucky. Great job!”

Then Alisha pulls out two large pieces of paper. “Alright, you two. Let’s go over today’s schedule. Bucky, once you’ve decided to start the full program, you’ll receive a permanent schedule. For now, we’ll go day by day.”

Steve glances over his schedule, then looks at Bucky’s. There are columns for the names of activities, the time intervals and lastly there’s a column with a big red checkmark at the top, which is probably for marking off activities once they’re complete. The activities are color coded and he sees the words ‘breakfast’, ‘lunch’ and ‘dinner’ written on both of them in green and the times match. There’s also ‘medical appointment’ written in red with a matching time. Their other activities are written in blue…and although their time intervals match, the activity names are all different.

In fact, the green ‘breakfast’ at the top—which they’d overrun by forty minutes according to the schedule—is following by ‘morning walk - Wen’ and ‘meeting with therapist’ on Bucky’s schedule, but Steve has ‘orientation’ and ‘room preparation’ on his.

A shiver of fear runs down his back as Steve realizes that they’re about to be split up. He should have been expecting this. It’s exactly what Wen had told him would happen; they’re starting to work on Bucky’s separation anxiety right now. By only separating them for short periods, Steve—and the rest of the care team—can use the periods where they’ll be reunited as rewards to encourage Bucky to go along with this.

Steve doesn’t know how he feels about starting the process right now. But then he thinks why not now? This is all part of making Bucky healthy. Steve can’t let his own selfish desire to be around Bucky 24 hours a day impact Bucky’s recovery.

There’s another problem. He knows Bucky won’t be happy about this. His mind starts running through scenarios of how to break the news to Bucky, but Bucky is carefully studying their schedules and by the frown on his face, he must have come to the same conclusion. “These—these are different,” he says, pointing at his and Steve’s blue activities.

Alisha smiles. “Yes, they are. There are several things I need Steve to do this morning, but there’s also things you need to do, Bucky. You don’t have to do them together and it’ll be good for you both to spend time working on your activities on your own. You’ll see Steve at lunch, then again for your medical appointment with Dr. Joshua and then for dinner.”

Steve notices that Alisha doesn’t mention that he and Bucky will be together after dinner too, which is very concerning. He’s not even sure how he feels about them being split up during the day, so just the thought of not spending the night with Bucky makes him feel a twinge of anxiety in his gut. That’s not something he’s ready for.

He feels somebody gently kick his ankles. It’s Wen. Right. Steve needs to push aside his own misgivings about the situation and fulfill the role Bucky needs him to play. It’s not the role Bucky _wants_ Steve to play, but it’s what he needs.

Smiling and forcibly pushing aside his own anxiety, he glances at Bucky. “Alright, well, we’re already running a bit behind. Let’s get going, Barnes. You’re gonna go for a morning walk with Wen, and I gotta do orientation.”

Bucky looks unsure about all of this. “Where—where will you be?”

Alisha smiles kindly. “Steve will be downstairs in one of the meeting rooms. You and Wen will go for a walk so you can get to know each other.”

Steve reaches over and squeezes Bucky’s hand. Pushing away his lack of enthusiasm about the upcoming separation, Steve smiles. “It’ll be fine, Buck. You know Wen, and we went outside yesterday. You really liked it, remember? Now, I gotta go or we’re gonna mess up our schedules completely.”

Leaning over, Steve kisses the face shield, which does nothing to ease the frown on Bucky’s face, but at least he’s not throwing a tantrum.

Steve stands up, folds up his schedule and puts it into his pocket. “Alright, I’ll see you at lunch, okay? We’ll both do a great job and we’ll tell each other what a great job we did at lunch. Now get up and gimme a hug.”

Bucky’s still frowning, but he gets up and pulls Steve into a tight hug, his arm wrapped around his neck. Rubbing his back, Steve squeezes him hard. “I love you and I know you’re gonna do great. Now, let’s get going!”

Gently untangling himself, Steve heads for the door, with Alisha bidding Bucky goodbye and following him out.

The second the door closes behind him, Steve’s strength deserts him and he feels like he’s going to collapse. Bucky had looked so unhappy and worried! What if he doesn’t get along with Wen? What if Bucky has a seizure and hurts himself? What if—

“Steve, look at me.”

With difficulty, Steve looks at Alisha.

“You did a great job in there. That’s exactly what Bucky needs from you. If he’s scared then he needs to see your strength and confidence, and he’ll use those to get himself through difficult moments. You’re doing exactly what Bucky needs you to do, even if it’s not exactly what he wants. You should be proud of what you just did.”

Steve sighs. “I wish I could feel proud about it. I know it was the right thing to do, but I’m worried sick over him and I hate it when he’s upset.”

“I know. But being able to push through and give our loved ones what they need, even when it’s hard for us is how we demonstrate our love for them.”

It abruptly reminds Steve of those times he’d been delirious with fever and Bucky had been forced to put him into cold baths or wrap him in cold, wet cloths to get his fever down. Steve had hated it and he’d cried and begged and he remembers Bucky would cry too because it was so hard for him to do those things to Steve, but Bucky did it because it’s what Steve needed. Bucky had pushed through his own fears and ignored the aching of his heart in order to save Steve’s life.

And Steve will learn to do the same to save Bucky’s.

“Loving somebody is damn hard work,” Steve mutters.

Alisha laughs. “Yes, it is. But it’s worth it in the long run.”

* * *

Steve’s orientation involves a meeting with the director of the rehab center. Most of the meeting deals with legal issues where the director explains what type of patient behavior they can deal with, what type of behavior will require medical or physical restraining and what type of behavior will end up forcing Bucky to leave the center and go to a more intensive program. Steve desperately hopes they won’t have to deal with the latter two.

He’s also given copies of Bucky’s future schedules, a list of everybody who will be part of Bucky’s care team and a break-down of what the stages of the program are.

At first, the focus will be on making Bucky comfortable with the routine, getting him to exercise, controlling his seizures and teaching him basic living skills, like dressing, cleaning and feeding himself. He’ll learn how to manage his emotional responses to situations and how to deal with overwhelming scenarios.

Then his therapy sessions will get more intense and he’ll have to work through the emotional trauma that he’s lived through. For now, his body is still in survival mode and the therapist wants to get him physically stable before they start the complicated task of dealing with emotional issues.

A speech therapist will help him with his stutter and a physical therapist will teach him to use his prosthetic arm properly and he’ll be taught more complex independent living skills, such as basic cooking skills, using a computer and phone, doing laundry, socializing with strangers and going shopping. He’ll also join groups of patients when they go into the nearby town center for various activities, such as shopping, eating in restaurants, attending church or whatever Bucky chooses to participate in. At that point, Bucky will be ready to leave the program and live on his own.

Steve can’t imagine Bucky being able to live by himself. It doesn’t really matter, since that’s not something Bucky will ever have to do anyway—once he’s done the program, he’ll come back to DC and Steve will have found them a nice apartment to live in—but just the idea that Bucky will be able to go to work and come home and do all the things he used to be able to do without Steve helping him is mind-boggling to him.

The director must see the doubt on his face. “I know these goals seem unrealistic right now, but I’ve seen patients who were more limited than Bucky and they finished the entire program, so it’s possible. There’s a chance that Bucky won’t achieve some of these goals and we do our best to adapt situations if the patient isn’t getting to the level we want them to. But do you know what’s one of the biggest motivating factor for patients?”

The way she says it reminds Steve of his conversation with Wen. He knows the answer. “My attitude.”

“Exactly. If you doubt Bucky, he’ll doubt himself and the brain has an extraordinary ability to limit physical function, even if the body could perform those physical tasks. You need to be the voice of support and encouragement, even when he’s frustrated and believes he can’t do something.”

Steve nods. He’d never realized that he’d have serious responsibilities too while Bucky’s at the center. The seriousness of his role in Bucky’s recovery is now crystal clear. “I understand. I can do it, I promise.”

She smiles. “I have no doubt.”

* * *

When Steve’s done with his meeting, Alisha picks him up and they go up to Bucky’s room. Along the way, Steve keeps glancing around to see if he can glimpse Bucky somewhere.

Alisha must know what he’s doing because she gives him a warm smile. “He’s fine, Steve.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s still on his walk with Wen.”

Steve makes a face. He feels very anxious thinking about Bucky walking around without him. “What if he has a seizure?”

“He had two already and he’s fine.”

Steve freezes and gapes at her, fear racing through him. “Did he hurt himself? When did they happen?”

Alisha holds up her phone and shows him the display, which is showing Bucky’s name and a bunch of graphs. Even before reading the labels, Steve knows from experience that he’s looking at Bucky’s heart rate and his breathing.

“You can see that his levels are a little elevated, but that’s to be expected when he’s walking around and he’s still a bit anxious about being outside and being with Wen.”

She taps some buttons on her phone and shows him another read-out. The lines on these readings are spiked. “This is what his vitals were when you left. He’s calmed down a lot, hasn’t he? And he didn’t need you to help him calm down.”

Switching the display back to the calmer lines of the present time, Alisha gives Steve a soft smile. “He did have two seizures, but Wen caught him both times and he came back to himself quickly. Wen gave him medication for his headache and everything was documented.”

“Did—did Buck remember where he was?”

“Not right away. I knew that would be a possibility so I went to see them both times. Bucky recognized me and we helped jog his memory.”

Steve bites his lip. “Did he think I left him here?”

“At first, yes. But we showed him your schedule and reminded him that you were doing your activities. He wasn’t happy, but he let us distract him. That’s a very positive sign.”

“Wen really caught him? He didn’t hurt himself?”

“He’s fine, I promise. Many of our patients have seizure disorders and Wen has more than a decade of experience dealing with them.”

Steve stares at her, not liking how this whole thing makes him feel. It feels weird to trust others to take care of Bucky. He knows all the staff members here are professionals and they have the right training, but he still feels anxious about the whole thing. He worries that their hearts may be in the right place but they won’t do things exactly the way Bucky needs.

Alisha abruptly interrupts his anxious thoughts. “Do you remember how many times you were at a hospital before the serum?”

Blinking from the abrupt change in topic, Steve frowns at her. “I have no idea. What’s this gotta do with Buck?”

“Would you say over a hundred times?”

He snorts. “Probably more.”

“And do you think it was easy for Bucky to trust that the people at the hospital would take good care of you? That it was easy for him to convince himself that the hospital staff had the skills to help you?”

That makes Steve pause. He’d never considered that before. His memories of being brought to the hospital and being admitted are hazy because he was always very sick by that point. All he remembers is seeing Bucky’s smile and his words of encouragement. When Steve would feel scared, Bucky would remind him that the hospital staff would take good care of him and things would be fine.

“ _You’re gonna be fine, Stevie. You just gotta be brave and everything will be fine, you’ll see.”_

Thinking back, Steve has no idea how Bucky managed to stay so positive. Bucky had no choice but to blindly trust the hospital staff to take care of Steve, even when there was a high chance that Steve could die.

But Steve can’t recall Bucky ever crying or being scared. There’s no doubt he was—Steve knows the fear he’s feeling now is a fraction of what Bucky had to go through back then—but he’d kept it hidden so well. Steve had always taken comfort from seeing Bucky’s positivity and his strength.

That’s what he needs to do for Bucky now.

Ironically, that’s when he hears Bucky call out “Stevie! Hey!” from behind him.

Spinning around, Steve sees Bucky walking towards him, wearing his helmet and his arm linked together with Wen. Bucky’s smiling and he looks happy.

Steve quickly pushes his heavy thoughts out of his head. “Hey, Buck!”

“I went—I went for a walk with Wen!” Having reached Steve, Bucky unlinks his arm from Wen and gives Steve a tight hug.

Steve wraps his arms around Bucky and sticks his nose against his neck, breathing him in and pressing his head against the plastic helmet. He’s tempted to squeeze Bucky tight and tell Alisha that he’s had enough of being separated from Bucky for the day. They’ll finish their schedules tomorrow.

But that’s exactly what he can’t do. Bucky’s done so well with his first solo activity and he seems relaxed and happy. If Steve gives any indication that he’s anxious about any of this, Bucky will absorb that attitude and this whole thing will go downhill.

Suddenly, Bucky’s words from decades ago come back to him. _“You’re gonna be fine, Stevie. You just gotta be brave and everything will be fine, you’ll see.”_

Like always, Bucky’s words fill Steve with a sense of bravery. He can do this. He can absolutely do this. Not only is Bucky depending on him to do this, but he can’t be the reason that things fall apart. It’s ironic that it’s Bucky’s words from the past that give Steve to strength to help Bucky in the present.

He gives Bucky a tight squeeze, grabs his newfound bravery and gently releases Bucky. Pasting a smile on his face, Steve tries to focus on the positives. “That’s great! I’m so proud of you. You liked being outside?”

Bucky’s nodding, smiling happily. “Uh huh. I did have two—two seizures.”

Careful, Rogers. Careful. _“You’re gonna be fine, Stevie. You just gotta be brave and everything will be fine, you’ll see.”_

Steve doesn’t allow his smile to falter. “Oh? Did Wen help you?”

“Uh huh. He caught me and gave me medicine. Alisha helped too.”

“That’s great! And then you kept walking around?”

“Yeah. Wen taught me what some of the flowers are called and—and I told him about the jar on the cupboard with the caramels.”

Steve chuckles softly. “You’re trying to get Wen to get you treats, huh?”

Bucky’s grin changes to his mischievous smirk. “Maybe. I ain’t—ain’t admittin’ to nothing.”

Laughing, Steve gently smacks Bucky on the arm. “Well, I’m glad you and Wen are getting along. So you’re gonna do your next activity now?”

“Yeah. And then—then we get to eat lunch together, right?”

“That’s right!”

“Okay.” Bucky glances at Wen. “Wen, I’m ready to go to the next activity. Sorry, I forgot what it is.”

Wen smiles gently. “That’s alright. You can check your schedule, remember? It’s in your pocket.”

“Right!” Bucky pulls the folded up paper out of his pocket and carefully reads through the list. Steve sees that somebody—probably Bucky—has put check-marks next to the breakfast and walk items.

“Oh, now I remember! I’m gonna—I’m gonna meet the therapist. That’s the brain doctor,” he explains to Steve.

“I’m sure that’s gonna go real well, Buck. We’ll talk about how it went at lunch, okay?”

Bucky grins. “Okay!” He turns to Wen. “I’m ready to go.”

Wen holds out his elbow and Bucky links his arm with Wen’s and off they go, walking down the hallway in the direction of the therapy rooms.

Steve is left staring after them.

Alisha has hung back during their interaction, but she’s got an impressed smile on her face.

Blowing out a breath, Steve raises his eyebrow at her. He still feels worried over Bucky, but he did the right thing. “How did I do?”

“You did great! I’m really impressed. I know you didn’t want to let him go, but you did and that’s what matters.”

Steve lets out a breath. “Can we start on my next activity before I change my mind?”

She laughs. “Absolutely! Let’s head up to Bucky’s room.”

Once they’re at Bucky’s room, Alisha’s about to use her fob to open the door, when she pauses. “Did I tell you about the codes yet?”

“Hmm?”

She points at a numbered keypad next to the door. “All the staff have master fobs to enter any of the rooms, but in an emergency, a code can be used to open it. Since we’re hoping you won’t be staying here for very long, I’ll just give you the code so you can enter Bucky’s room even if you don’t have a fob.”

Steve’s stomach clenches with discomfort at the idea of leaving Bucky at the center by himself, but he pays attention as Alisha tells him the code and shows him how to enter it.

Once they’re inside Bucky’s room, Steve’s attention is caught by a pile of new things on Bucky’s table; a sketchpad, drawing pencils and a stack of picture frames. He understands immediately what Alisha wants him to do.

She raises her eyebrows at him, a smile on her lips. “Any ideas what I need you to do here?”

Steve grins. “I’m guessing you want me to put my artistic skills to use?”

“Only if you agree, of course. But it’s very helpful for patients to have pictures of their loved ones and their homes. The pictures can help them jog their memories, comfort them, and the therapists like to use them for references. We looked online but we didn’t find any pictures of Bucky from before World War 2, and I know his pre-war memories are much clearer.”

Nodding, Steve steps up to the table and flips through the sketch pad. It’s good quality paper and Steve finds himself getting excited about this. “Any particular things you want me to sketch?”

“Anything that Bucky will strongly connect with emotionally. You, your mother, Bucky’s family, places you used to go to, your old apartment, things like that.”

Nodding, Steve opens up a box of pencils. “I can do that.”

“Great! That’ll be very helpful for us and it’ll be great for Bucky. I’ll leave you to it,” Alisha tells him. “Bucky will join you for lunch and Wen will escort you both to Bucky’s medical appointment with Dr. Joshua. If you need any other art supplies, just ask Dawn at the front desk.”

“Okay. Thanks, Alisha.”

Once she’s left, Steve grabs the sketch pad and a pencil and sits in his usual armchair by the window. Staring out at the calm, green scenery, he debates what to start with. There’s about an hour to go until lunch, so he decides to start with something quick.

Figuring that Bucky might recall the sketch that’s in the Smithsonian, he settles on drawing ten year-old Bucky in his school uniform, but he doesn’t include any fake dogs this time. Instead, he draws Bucky sitting at his desk at school, a pencil in his hand as he works hard at solving math problems in his notebook. He draws himself sitting beside Bucky and adds in some students and other desks around him, but he focuses on Bucky.

In the middle of his sketching, the door opens and Bucky comes in with Wen on his heels.

“Hi, you two!” Steve tosses the sketch pad on the other chair and stands up. He’s missed Bucky a lot, considering they’d seen each other about an hour ago. As before, they hug each other as soon as they’re within reaching distance.

Steve gently knocks his head against Bucky’s helmet. “So, time for lunch?”

“Uh huh. I—I was thinking of trying to eat—to eat in the dining room. What do you think?”

Steve grins and he feels pride glow in his chest at Bucky’s suggestion. He exchanges a quick smile with Wen, who raises both eyebrows and gives him a discreet thumbs up signal behind Bucky’s back.

“I’d love to eat in the dining room, pal. You ready to go downstairs?”

“Yeah. And I wanna—I wanna tell you about my brain doctor. And I wanna know what you’ve been doing. Are you sketching?”

“Uh huh. I’ll tell you about it over lunch.”

* * *

On the way downstairs, Steve is surprised when Bucky automatically links arms with Wen instead of slinging his arm around Steve’s waist. A little flare of jealousy lights up within him, but Steve pushes it away. This is exactly the kind of thing Steve needs to be happy about. His jealousy isn’t a positive contribution.

He reminds himself that this is a very good sign. Wen will be involved in Bucky’s daily care and the fact that Bucky’s comfortable around him is very important. Steve will have fifty years to cuddle with Bucky, but right now, he needs to stay focused on his recovery, not his petty jealousy.

Lunch goes very well. Alisha doesn’t join them this time but Steve is happy that Bucky is easily taking direction from Wen. Bucky does have a seizure during lunch and he bangs the helmet on the table when he loses consciousness, but the helmet and Wen both do their jobs and he’s fine when he wakes up again.

Before Bucky starts eating, Wen quietly asks him to identify what the foods on his plate are and whether he understands how to properly eat all of them. It hadn’t ever occurred to Steve to ask such questions.

To Steve’s pleasant surprise, Bucky doesn’t put up a fuss about eating lunch on his own. As before, Steve and Wen match their pace to Bucky’s and lunch passes without any fuss. After Wen has shown them where to return their trays, they return to their table and discuss what they’d been up to since breakfast.

Bucky often loses track of what he’s saying in the middle of a story and both Wen and Steve gently give him prompts that help jog his memory and keep him focused. He looks a bit concerned when Steve tells him about the sketches, but Steve doesn’t allow either of them to dwell on what they mean—a clear sign of a future where Steve will leave Bucky at the facility—and instead, he asks Bucky what pictures he wants him to sketch.

Then it’s time for Bucky’s medical appointment, and Wen drops them off to meet with Dr. Joshua. There’s more testing for Bucky to get through and they’re shown Bucky’s blood test results that Alisha has been taking during the day and will continue to take, which confirm that Bucky’s metabolizing the medication very quickly.

After getting a new dose of medication, it’s time for them to return to their schedules. Bucky checks his, and after he takes out a pen and carefully puts a checkmark next to the medical appointment slot, he declares that it’s time for him to exercise—with Wen—while Steve is supposed to continue working on his sketches.

Bucky seems excited to use the stationary bike again, but he waits patiently in his chair, explaining to Steve that he needs to wait for Wen to come before he can leave Dr. Joshua. It seems that Bucky’s care team is already establishing an essential part of the routine: not having Bucky be unsupervised while his seizures aren’t under control. And without even making Steve aware of it, they’ve managed to cut Steve out of the line-up. Again, it makes Steve feel jealous and anxious, but he forces those thoughts aside.

Think of Bucky’s future, think of Bucky’s future, think of Bucky’s future.

He maintains a positive attitude and once Wen arrives, he watches Bucky happily link arms with him and walk away.

Think of Bucky’s future, think of Bucky’s future think of Bucky’s future.


	14. Chapter 14

They eat dinner in the dining room again and Bucky does a fantastic job eating on his own.

Steve can’t believe that Bucky’s temper tantrum about not eating on his own had taken place just that morning. It feels like it had happened ages ago. It’s amazing to see how much progress Bucky has already made.

After dinner, Wen goes to attend to some other things and Steve goes for a walk outside with Bucky, who teaches him the names of the flowers Wen had taught him that morning. He forgets the names of a few, but Steve uses his phone to fill in the blanks.

After their walk, they head upstairs to Bucky’s room and sit in their chairs. It’s the first time in hours that Bucky can take his helmet off and once it’s on the ground, he throws his feet onto Steve’s lap with a happy sigh. They’re chatting and laughing together and everything is going great…

…until Alisha knocks on the door a few hours later. Steve already knows she’s going to say something he doesn’t like by the way she’s smiling at them. He can see tension behind her smile, as if she knows that a fight is coming.

Sure enough, her words aren’t what they’d been expecting to hear.

“I don’t want to rush you, and you can do your usual evening routine together, but when you’re both ready for bed, I’d like you, Steve, to go to your own room to sleep. There’s a spare room two doors down which you can use.”

While Steve is shocked into silence, Bucky isn’t. He frowns and stares at Alisha. “Steve is sleeping with me.”

“I know he did last night, but we want you to get accustomed to spending the night on your own. Remember that we talked about Steve not living here while you do the program and how important that is? We’re slowly moving towards having you establish your own routine, and it’s a good step for Steve to stay close by, but in a different room.”

Bucky’s still frowning. He stares at Alisha for a while, but when she just stares back at him, he finally slumps back in his chair. “No. Steve’s staying here.” His tone is light and casual, but the way he’s staring at Alisha makes it clear that he’s not backing down.

Steve sighs softly. Time for another fight. He’s really not in the mood for it. They’ve had a very long day already, he’s tired and he’s spent most of the day missing Bucky. He was looking forward to spending the rest of the evening and the night with him. But despite how tired he is and how much his heart wants to spend the night with Bucky, he needs to stick to the plan, fulfill his role as part of Bucky’s care team, and do what Bucky needs him to do. It’s not what Bucky wants him to do, but it’s what he needs.

“Buck, I think it’s a good idea. You did so well being on your own for a bit today, and we spend most of the night sleeping anyway. I’ll—”

“No.” Bucky doesn’t even look at him when he says it, he’s still glaring at Alisha.

Alisha transfers her gaze to Steve. “Steve, you’ll be staying in room 203. Here’s the fob.” She digs a plastic fob out of her pocket and holds it out towards him, the fob dandling from the same type of coiled plastic bracelet that Bucky has.

Bucky reacts faster than Steve does and stands up, snatching the fob out of Alisha’s open hand and throwing it towards the door.

“Buck! What are you doing?!”

Alisha holds out a hand towards Steve, wanting him to stay quiet. “Bucky, that was very rude of you. Do you remember we talked this morning about how to handle your emotions when you get upset?”

Bucky is still standing and Steve can tell he’s upset. He’s shaking and his eyes look scared but the rest of him is angry. “I don’t want—I don’t want—Steve is staying here! Steve—I—you can’t—Steve is staying here! He—he’s staying—I—I don’t—”

Steve is paying less attention to Bucky’s tantrum and more to the fact that he’s standing up, right by the glass window and he’s not wearing his helmet. “Buck, sit down or put your helmet on and get away from the window.”

Bucky ignores him. “I—I don’t—you can’t—no! I said no! I want—I want—you—”

“Bucky, do as Steve says. Sit down or step away from the window.”

“I don’t—”

With his heart about to leap out of his chest with worry over Bucky’s well-being, Steve reaches over and shoves Bucky down into his seat.

Bucky glares and smacks his hand as he lands in the chair, but then he changes his mind and grabs Steve’s shirt, nearly making Steve fall on top of him. Steve manages to brace himself on the arms of Bucky’s chair, but just barely. “Jesus, Buck! Let go! What are you doing?”

Reaching for Steve with his metal hand, Bucky clutches Steve’s shirt in a tight grip with both hands. Giving Steve a push backwards, he shoves them both into Steve’s chair and climbs into Steve’s lap, wrapping both arms around Steve.

Steve can barely breathe from the tight grip, but he can feel how Bucky’s trembling and his breathing is shaky.

To reassure him, Steve tightly wraps his arms around Bucky. “It’s okay. I ain’t going nowhere right now. You gotta loosen your grip, okay? I can’t breathe good.”

Bucky loosens his grip a bit but doesn’t release him. He turns his face to the side so he can glare at Alisha. “I don’t want—Steve is staying here! He’s—he’s—he’s staying here! You can’t—you can’t—you can’t—”

Tears brim his eyes and his shaking gets worse. Steve can tell he’s terrified and also angry, but Steve has no idea how to calm him down. He can’t give in and agree to stay here for the night. That won’t move them forward. But how can he even think of leaving Bucky when he’s this upset?

He presses his face against Bucky’s shoulder and holds him tight. “It’s okay, Buck. I ain’t—I ain’t going nowhere right now. I—”

“You ain’t—you ain’t going nowhere ever! You—Steve needs to stay here! I don’t want—I don’t want—I don’t want—”

That’s when Alisha steps forward and crouches down next to them. “Bucky, please focus on calming down. I want to have a conversation about why you’re upset right now, but you know we can’t communicate when you’re upset like this.”

“I don’t—I don’t—you—Steve is—you—Steve is—you—”

Steve rubs his back. “It’s okay. I ain’t—”

Alisha holds up her finger towards him. “Steve, try to stay quiet, please.”

That’s very good advice, because Steve can feel his determination slipping. He’s ready to throw the long-term plan out the window and forget about the rest of the team. He wants Bucky to feel better, he wants his pain to stop and all it’ll take is agreeing to stay here for the night. In fact, he’s even starting to feel upset with Alisha—how _dare_ she ask him to do something that’s upsetting Bucky like this?!

But then reality sets in and he realizes he’s about to undo the progress they’ve made today. He needs to stay strong. He needs to be the person Bucky needs, not the one he wants. So he shuts his mouth and slowly loosens his grip on Bucky.

Bucky must feel the change in his attitude, because he pulls back and glares at Steve. Without any warning, he punches Steve in the chest, hard. Thankfully, he does it with his normal fist, but it’s still uncalled for.

“Hey!” Steve grabs Bucky’s hand in a tight grip and glares at him. “Don’t hit me! I don’t care how upset you are! That’s uncalled for!”

They might rough-house with each other a bit when they’re having fun, but they never use physical violence on each other.

Bucky glares at Steve, but tears are starting to roll down his cheeks and his chin is trembling. “I don’t—I don’t—you—I don’t—you—”

“Buck, you gotta calm down. We can’t talk about things when you’re upset and acting like this.” Steve loosens his grip on Bucky’s hand and gently rubs the back of it with his thumb.

“I want—you need to—I want—you—”

Alisha puts a hand on the armrest of the chair, but she’s not touching either of them. “Bucky, take a deep breath, please. Just focus on taking a deep breath.”

Bucky glares at her, but does as she asked.

“That’s good. Now, another one.”

Bucky takes another breath. It’s choppy and he’s still glaring and crying, but he’s not yelling anymore.

“And now we’re going to count up and down from five. Here we go: 1…2…3…4…5. And backwards: 5…4…3…2…1. Try to do it with me this time. 1…2…”

“…3…” Bucky mumbles through his tears. “…4…5.”

This must have been how Alisha had calmed Bucky down during his tantrum this morning.

“That’s great! Now backwards. 5…4…”

“…3…2…1.” Bucky takes a shaky breath. “1…2…3…4…5.”

Bucky and Alisha count together and gradually, Bucky calms down. He stops crying and the worst of his trembling stops. He slumps against Steve’s chest, staring off into space while he and Alisha count and Steve sits quietly and rubs Bucky’s back.

Once Bucky has completely calmed down, Alisha makes herself more comfortably on the floor and gives Bucky a kind smile. “I’d like to know why you were so upset, Bucky.”

Bucky shrugs. “I dunno.”

“Was it like this morning?”

“Uh huh. I got real scared when you said Steve has to leave me. And then I got mad. I dunno why.” He’s tugging on Steve’s shirt, playing with it while Steve rubs his back.

“That’s okay. I know this is really hard, but I promise that we’ll help you handle these situations better.”

“I don’t want Steve to leave.”

“I know you don’t, but he’s not really leaving you. You need to gain more independence so you can be a strong person and feel good about yourself. So Steve is helping you by giving you more space to learn how to do things on your own.”

“But I—but I wanna stay with him.”

“I know, and you’ll always be able to see Steve again. Every single time you and Steve have some time apart, you’ll know exactly when you’ll see him again. That’ll give you something to look forward to. And that makes it less scary, doesn’t it?”

“When—when am I gonna see Steve again?”

Alisha looks at Steve and gestures for him to re-join the conversation. “You’ll see me tomorrow morning. I’ll come see you first thing in the morning, okay? I’ll be here before you’re even outta bed.”

Bucky pulls back and stares at him, frowning. “Promise?”

“I promise. I’ll stay until you’re ready to sleep and then I’ll come wake you up. How does that sound?”

Bucky presses his lips together, still looking worried. “What if I need help at night?”

Alisha answers that question. “You can put on your helmet if you need to use the toilet and you know you can do that by yourself. If you need help with anything else, you can use the phone to call reception. You can keep the phone right by your bed so you don’t have to put your helmet on to get it.”

“And you’ll come back in the morning?” Bucky stares at Steve.

“I promise.”

Sighing softly, Bucky looks at Alisha. “I still think—I still think this is dumb.”

“I know you do. But are you willing to give it a try?”

Steve holds his breath while Bucky considers. He stares hard at Steve. “You think this is important?”

“Yeah, I do. I really do.”

Bucky takes a deep breath. “Okay, fine. I’ll try.”

Grinning, Steve pulls him into a hug and kisses his temple. “Thanks, Buck. You’re a peach.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky mumbles against his chest, still not enthusiastic about this whole thing.

“I’m very proud that you’re willing to try this,” Alisha says.

“I ain’t actually done it yet.”

“That’s another step. It’s important to celebrate every step that you conquer, and being willing to consider spending the night by yourself is a big step that needs to be acknowledged.”

That makes Bucky smile a bit and shyly turn his face into Steve’s chest.

Steve chuckles and pats him on the back. “You can hide in my shirt all you want, Barnes. Alisha and I are still gonna be out here, being proud of you.”

Bucky wiggles a bit and presses his face harder against Steve. Steve knows he’s probably blushing. Exchanging amused glances with Alisha, he kisses the top of Bucky’s head.

Discreetly, Alisha points at Steve and gives him a thumbs up signal. She wants him to know that he did a good job too.

Smiling, Steve gives her a nod. He’s actually not that proud of himself. He’d come very, very close to jeopardizing this whole situation and giving in to Bucky’s tantrum. He’d barely managed to restrain himself from ruining everything. That’s something he’ll need to keep working.

But now he has an even better understanding of why it’s beneficial for both the patients and their loved ones that the loved ones don’t stay at the facility full time. Steve can’t imagine having battles like this every single day. He’d run out of strength within a few days and then he’d be jeopardizing Bucky’s entire future. That’s not something he’d ever forgive himself for.

Alisha puts her hand on the chair’s armrest again. “Bucky? I want to talk about one last thing before I leave you alone.”

“What is it?” Bucky mumbles into Steve’s shirt, peering over at her.

“Do you remember hitting Steve while you were upset?”

Bucky frowns and sits up. “I didn’t hit him. We don’t—we don’t do that. We shove each other, but that’s for play.”

Steve smiles sadly. “You did hit me.”

Blinking hard, Bucky stares at Steve, looking upset again. “I—I don’t—I don’t remember that.”

“That’s alright,” Alisha says. “We’re going to work on your emotional outbursts and once you get those under control, then those impulses will be easier to control. But I do think you owe Steve an apology. What do you think?”

To be honest, Steve had been so happy that Bucky had calmed down that he would have been alright not bringing this subject up again. But Alisha is seeing things from a different perspective. Steve still isn’t accustomed to Bucky behaving like this, so he’s willing to lower his standards but Alisha isn’t, and Steve needs to do the same. If he knows Bucky is capable of doing something or behaving in a certain way, then he needs to hold him to those standards or Bucky will never reach them.

Bucky looks devastated. He stares at Steve, looking close to tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m—I’m sorry. I don’t got the right to—to do that. It ain’t—that ain’t right.”

Steve gently grabs Bucky’s hand and kisses his knuckles. Opening Bucky’s hand, he presses his palm against his own cheek. “I forgive you. But let’s not make that a habit, okay?”

Bucky nods rapidly, his eyes dropping down to Steve’s chest.

Steve can feel how tense Bucky’s hand is against his cheek. He knows it’s not because Bucky doesn’t want Steve touching him, but he’s torn between accepting Steve’s forgiveness or continuing to blame himself and feeling like he doesn’t deserve to touch him.

“Buck? Look at me.” When Bucky’s devastated eyes are back on Steve’s, he takes Bucky’s hand off his cheek, kisses his palm and wraps his fingers closed around the kiss, letting him hold it. “I forgive you. Let’s move on, okay?”

Bucky stares at him for a long moment, then gently presses his closed hand to his chest. “I’ll work hard, I promise,” he whispers.

“I know you will.”

Alisha smiles at both of them and Steve can tell it’s her proud smile. Getting off the floor, she goes to the door and retrieves the fob that Bucky had thrown. “Steve, I’m leaving the fob here. Whenever you’re ready, you can head over.” She drops the fob on the table.

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Bucky? I’d like to speak with Steve privately for a few minutes. Can you sit here by yourself while we do that?”

Bucky shifts on Steve’s lap. A worried frown appears on his face, but he appears to be thinking it over. “Where—where are you gonna be?”

“Just outside the door. Then Steve’s gonna come back inside.”

Bucky stares back and forth between Steve and Alisha. After having what must be an intense internal battle, he slowly pushes himself off Steve’s lap and settles in his own chair.

“Have fun talking—talking to Alisha, Rogers.” His voice is shaking a bit, but Steve recognizes half of the usual Barnes smirk on his face. It’s weak, but it’s there.

Grinning, Steve gets up and leans over to kiss Bucky on the forehead. “I will. Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.”

“Trouble? Me? I—I ain’t—that ain’t me. You—you got the wrong person.” The smirk is stronger now.

Steve chuckles. “Uh huh. Right.”

Following Alisha outside, Steve prepares himself for what he knows are going to be his evening orders. He remembers Wen’s words about Alisha being the commander of this entire team. She issues the orders, and it’s Steve’s job to obey them.

Alisha shuts the door behind her. “Okay. Here’s the plan: keep things relaxed and routine. If Bucky wants you to help him with his evening routine in the bathroom, you can do that. We don’t need to fight every battle in one day. The only thing that you need to change is after Bucky’s in bed and relaxed, you’ll go to your own room.”

Steve nods. “I can do that.”

He hopes.

“I know you can. But here’s the important part: Bucky will take his cues from you. If you’re a nervous wreck and making a huge fuss about leaving him, all of that anxiety will transfer onto him and he’ll get upset and the whole thing will collapse. You need to keep the atmosphere calm and relaxed. That means not making a big deal out of leaving. You just say ‘good night’ and ‘I’ll see you when you wake up’, then you calmly leave the room. No big, dramatic theatrics, okay?”

Letting out a sigh, Steve makes a face. “What if I feel the dramatic theatrics in my gut?”

“That’s fine and that’s understandable. You just have to keep it together until you’re out of Bucky’s room, and we’ll help you if you need help.”

When Steve chuckles at her humor, she raises her eyebrows at him, making his chuckling fade and realize that she wasn’t joking. “I’m being serious. I’m not telling you that you can’t have a big emotional reaction to being separated from Bucky. What I’m saying is that you can’t have that reaction in front of him. Not if this is gonna work.”

Steve nods and takes a deep breath. “I can do this. I have to.”

“I know. And I have faith that you can do it. But if you’re struggling to leave Bucky, grab the phone and call for help. I’ll be here overnight. I want to make this clear: if you’re too anxious to spend the night away from Bucky, then we’ll deal with that together. If things go sideways, then we’ll probably decide that you and Bucky can spend the night together to calm down. The point of this isn’t to torture either of you and to drive you into a state of anxiety and leave you there. But in order to move forward, we do have to push both of you past your comfort zones. I want you to try first because Bucky will naturally take orders better from you than from me, but if you need help, I’ll be there.”

That reminds Steve that he’d already spent the entire day with Alisha. “The staff don’t live here, do they? You need to have a break too.”

She smiles. “Oh, absolutely. But whenever I get a new patient on my team, I stay here for several days. The first few days are the hardest and the most important. But just in case I’m occupied with another patient, it’s best you and Bucky learn to always call reception first and whoever’s at the desk will know how to get you help as soon as possible.”

Again, Steve feels a sense of relief. These people not only know what they’re doing, but they really do care. His and Bucky’s well-being are important to this team. Steve smiles, feeling emotional. “You guys remind me of the Howling Commandos.”

Alisha grins, looking delighted. “Really? How so?”

“That’s the last team I was on where everybody really cared about everybody else. I knew I could trust any member of that team with my life, and I could also put Buck’s life in their hands and be confident that they’d guard it as well as I would. It means the world to me to have that back.”

Reaching over, Alisha gently squeezes Steve’s hand. “It’s an honor you and Bucky choose us as your team. I promise you won’t regret trusting us. But you do have to follow the team’s directives.”

Steve lets out a sigh and nods. “I’ll do my best, ma’am. I promise.”

“And what will you do if your best won’t get the job done?”

“I’ll call for backup.”

“Good. Alright, I’ll go say good night to Bucky and the rest is up to you.”


	15. Chapter 15

After Alisha gives Bucky his evening medication, she says good night to Bucky and leaves them. Not wanting to give either of them the chance to get anxious, Steve immediately gets them started on their evening routine. As Alisha had suggested, Steve makes no effort to push Bucky to wash himself or brush his own teeth.

They bring the helmet into the bathroom and once Bucky’s out of the bathtub, he immediately puts it on while Steve brushes his teeth for him. After his teeth are brushed, Steve helps Bucky puts his medical monitoring patch back on his chest.

When they’re both done and changed into their pajamas, Bucky climbs into bed, takes the helmet off and carefully puts it on the bedside table. He gives Steve a look while he does it. “So I can—I can put it on if I have to go to the toilet at—at night.”

Steve smiles. “I’m real happy you’re thinking ahead. That’s fantastic.” But he’s careful not go overboard with the praise. He wants to keep the atmosphere relaxed all the way until it’s time for him to leave. He knows Bucky’s on the verge of getting anxious, so he doesn’t want to tip him over that edge with any big displays of emotions. He remembers his orders: no dramatic theatrics.

Instead, he unplugs the phone and moves the charging station over to the bedside table and plugs it back in. Taking the phone off the charger, he hands it to Bucky, who’s sprawled out on the bed.

“You wanna practice calling reception again?”

“I—I remember how to do it.”

“You sure?”

Bucky grins at him. “Yeah, I’m sure, punk. I ain’t—I ain’t appreciate you doubting my skills.”

Steve laughs and lets himself fall down next to him, landing on his stomach and deliberately elbowing Bucky in the side when he lands.

“Hey! Punk!” Bucky lifts his leg and gently kicks him in the butt.

Laughing, Steve shifts himself over until he’s lying on top of Bucky, preventing him to moving his legs. He folds his arms over Bucky’s chest and rests his chin on his arms.

Bucky reaches down and rubs the back of Steve’s neck. “Comfortable, Rogers?”

“Yup. Thanks for asking. Hey, Barnes?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re gonna put the helmet on if you get out of bed for whatever reason, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“Promise?”

Bucky yanks on one of Steve’s ears and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I promise. I ain’t actually wanna crack my head open, you know.”

Steve grins and drums on Bucky’s chest with his hands. “Oh, that’s good. I didn’t know you had the brains to think of that on your own, so thanks for that reassurance.”

Bucky lets out a laugh and flicks Steve in the ear, hard.

“Ow! Jesus!” Steve smacks at Bucky’s hand and rubs his stinging ear.

Bucky’s still laughing. “You deserve it, punk! Insulting my—my intelligence like that.”

Grinning, Steve leans up and kisses Bucky on the nose as an apology. Bucky’s mock-glaring at him while he does it, but he can’t quite keep the smile off his own face.

“So Barnes, you know what story you wanna read tonight?”

Bucky stares up at the ceiling, thinking. His hand wraps around the back of Steve’s neck and plays with his hair. “I don’t know. You wanna—you wanna pick something?”

“Okay.” Steve rolls off him and grabs the e-reader from his bag. He also grabs Bucky’s music player and puts it on the bedside table for later.

They re-arrange themselves on the bed and climb underneath the covers. Bucky snuggles up against Steve’s chest and closes his eyes while Steve finds a story to read. After he’s picked one, he starts reading out-loud. Bucky stays quiet and calm during the story, laughing at the funny parts and whenever Steve attempts to do funny voices for some of the characters.

When the story’s done, Steve slides the e-reader onto the bedside table and rubs Bucky’s back.

Bucky’s eyes are still closed and he’s on his way to fall asleep, but Steve needs to get out from underneath him before he does that.

“Hey, Buck?” Steve whispers.

“Can you sing the star song?” he mumbles.

“Sure. But you gotta shift over just a little bit.”

“Why? I’m comfortable.”

“Cause I gotta go to my own bed once we finished the song, remember? If you’re comfortable, I don’t wanna make a fuss when I get up.”

Bucky doesn’t move for a minute. Then: “You really gotta go to that other room?” He asks quietly. He doesn’t sound anxious, just dejected. His voice sounds like he knows the answer to the question, but he’s still asking anyway in the faint hope that the answer will be different.

Steve rubs his back. “Yeah, I really gotta.”

Sighing softly, Bucky stays still for a while longer, then shifts off Steve and buries his face into the pillow next to him.

Steve shifts out from underneath the covers but lies back down on top of them and rolls towards Bucky, putting his face on the pillow next to his.

The thought of having to leave Bucky all alone in a few minutes threatens to bring on a wave of anxiety. He wants to reassure Bucky that he’ll be nearby. That he’ll see him in a few hours. That Steve will be just as anxious about it as Bucky will. That he knows it’ll be hard, but they can do this. That he loves him and he’ll miss him every second.

But then he remembers Alisha’s orders. What good would saying any of that do? All of that will just get Bucky worked up. He’s calm and relaxed now so if Steve allows himself to give in to his own anxiety, it’ll just make things worse for both of them. He has to stay strong.

Bucky’s opened his eyes a sliver and he’s watching Steve.

“Hey, Buck?” Steve whispers softly.

“Hmm?”

“I put your music player on the bedside table. If you wanna listen to your songs, you can do that.”

“Can—can you put it on after you sing the star song?”

“Sure. You ready for the song?” Steve whispers.

“Uh huh.”

Taking a breath, Steve quietly starts singing, keeping his voice low and soft. Once he’s done singing the song, he reaches over for the music player. He turns it on, picks one of Bucky’s favourite napping songs and turns the volume low enough that Bucky will still hear if somebody comes into his room or if the phone rings.

Reaching over, he gently presses the ear buds into Bucky’s ears. Bucky’s eyes have fallen shut, but they open a bit and he moves his head slightly to help Steve get the little buds in. Sliding the music player underneath the pillow, Steve gently strokes the side of Bucky’s face.

“Good night, Buck. I love you.”

Bucky smiles. “Good night, Stevie. I love you too,” he mumbles.

Steve desperately wants to put his head down on the pillow and wrap himself around Bucky, but he still has a job to do. Pushing aside his own anxiety, he keeps smiling as he slowly pushes himself off the bed. Not allowing himself to pause, he steps into his shoes and goes to the table to grab the fob Alisha had left. Turning back to Bucky, he forces himself to just give him a small smile.

No dramatic theatrics. No big declarations. No heartfelt promises. This isn’t a big deal. He’s just going two doors over. He’ll see Bucky in a few hours.

Steve gives Bucky a little wave. Bucky’s watching him and he looks a little tense, but he’s still calm and half-sleep.

Walking to the door, Steve turns around and gives Bucky one last smile, then he forces himself to step through the door and shut it behind him with a quiet click. His eyes immediately land on Alisha, who’s sitting in the hallway across from Bucky’s room, leaning against the wall.

Steve stares at her and doesn’t know whether to cry or celebrate. He did it. Bucky did it. Well—they still have to get through the night, but he’s shut the door behind himself and Bucky’s not upset and Steve isn’t falling to pieces.

Alisha is smiling and making little fist pumps into the air and miming clapping. She gets off the floor and grabs his arms, shaking and squeezing them. “I’m very proud of you, Steve! That was a really hard thing you just did.”

Steve sighs softly. Her praise feels good, but he’s still conflicted. He misses Bucky, he hates that Bucky will feel lonely during the night and that Steve is supposed to just let him deal with that alone.

Alisha squeezes his arm. “You’re doing the right thing. You have to remember that. I know you won’t sleep much tonight, but whenever you feel the urge to walk back here, you have to remind yourself that Bucky’s future is at stake here.”

Nodding but still feeling numb, Steve is grateful when Alisha takes his arm and guides him to his own room. She unlocks the door and brings him over to the bed.

“You’ll be fine and so will Bucky. I’ll see you both tomorrow, but if you need help—even if Bucky doesn’t—use that phone. Being a little anxious tonight is fine, but if you’re really struggling, then call, okay?”

Giving her another numb nod, Steve sits on the bed and stares at the floor.

Alisha sighs softly, crouches down and puts her hands on his knees. “You have to keep reminding yourself that this is going to be hard now, but in twenty years, you’re gonna look back on this and be so grateful that you pushed through and did it. You’re gonna be grateful for your own sake and also for Bucky’s.”

Steve nods. “Yeah. But it’s hard.”

“Of course it is. You love him and it’s always hard to see the people we love suffer. But sometimes suffering is necessary.”

It reminds Steve of the cold water baths Bucky used to force him to take when he had a high fever. Being reminded that Bucky had lived through making Steve suffer far worse than how Steve’s making Bucky suffer now gives Steve a new boost of resolve. Giving Alisha a smile, he squeezes her hand. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Good. But the phone’s right over there.” She points at the phone and gives him a long look.

“I know. Thank you.”

Alisha smiles proudly and squeezes his hand back. “Alright, have a good night and I’ll come by Bucky’s room tomorrow morning before breakfast.”

“Okay. Good night.”

Standing up, Alisha heads out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

And then Steve is left by himself. Glancing at the clock, he realizes he has many, many hours left before he can go back to Bucky’s room. Unfortunately, sitting here and staring at the clock won’t make the time move any faster.

His head is swirling with worries: what if Bucky’s upset and crying right now? What if he forgets where he is and thinks Steve has abandoned him? What if he gets out of bed, forgets his helmet, has a seizure and hurts himself?

With his stomach twisting into knots, Steve struggles to stay calm and keep his butt glued to the bed.

“Calm down,” he admonishes himself. “Buck’s wearing his medical patch so if he gets into trouble, the team will know. And if he’s upset, then if I go running over there, he’ll know how weak I am and we’ll have to do this all over again tomorrow.”

And he doesn’t want that. Bucky can do this and Steve can’t be the reason that Bucky fails. That’s something he’d never forgive himself for.

Forcing himself to kick his shoes off, he flings back the covers and makes himself lie down. Yanking the covers up, he gets comfortable and closes his eyes. Now he needs to sleep. Quickly. And the hours need to pass very quickly and then he’ll get to see Bucky again and his stomach will stop aching with anxiety.

The only problem is that he knows he won’t be able to fall asleep. His mind keeps coming up with nightmare scenarios of Bucky getting hurt or being upset and he can’t make it stop. He regrets not bringing the e-reader with him. There isn’t even a television in the room that he could use to distract himself. His phone is in Bucky’s room too.

As he lies there, he opens his eyes and stares up at the ceiling. Maybe he should go down to reception and get paper and a pencil? He could sketch to pass the time and he needs to do those sketches for Bucky anyway.

Just as he’s mulling over whether to go downstairs, the phone rings, tearing apart the silence around him and scaring him half to death. The first thought is that Bucky’s hurt and the team is calling him to tell him about it.

Leaping out of bed with his heart in his throat, he lunges for the phone and nearly drops it in his haste to press the right button to answer the call. “Hel—Hello?”

“Stevie? Please tell me that’s—that’s you and I ain’t—ain’t waking up somebody else.”

Relief floods through him when he recognizes Bucky’s voice. Not only is it Bucky, but he sounds fine. He’s not yelling, he’s not crying. Steve drops to the ground, the phone clutched in his hand and his heart still hammering. “Yeah, Buck, it’s me.”

“Oh, good.”

Then Bucky doesn’t say anything for a while, seeming content with the silence and completely ignorant of having scared Steve nearly to death. “You okay? You need something?”

“Well, I need—I need you. But I ain’t getting you til the morning, right?”

It’s on the tip of Steve’s tongue to say that ‘no, he’ll get Steve right now because Steve is about to race out of his room and run to Bucky’s and screw the program, they’ll head back to DC and live in their hotel room…’

And that’s not healthy so Steve needs to stop those thoughts. He has a job to do, a role to play and his team is depending on him to do his part in order to help Bucky. Think of Bucky’s future.

“Yeah, you need to wait until morning. But we’ve spent lots of nights apart, haven’t we? And absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

Bucky snorts. “Who says I’m missing you, punk? I’m—I’m glad to have the bed to myself. I can stretch out.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, so can I. And I don’t gotta listen to your snoring.”

“I don’t snore. I make adorable sounds that you should feel lucky to listen to.”

“You keep thinking that, Barnes.”

“I will.”

Steve laughs. Getting off the floor, he goes to the bed and lies down. “So how did you figure out how to call my room?”

“I called—I called reception and I talked to Ryan.”

Steve frowns. “Who’s Ryan?”

“He does the night shift. I talked to Ryan and I asked him hypothetically how to call other people’s rooms. He told me—he told me you just press the little hatch mark button and then you type—you type the room number.”

Steve smiles. “And you remembered Alisha saying my room number?”

“Uh huh. Alisha wanted me to stay in my room and—and you stay in yours, but she didn’t say nothing about—nothing about not calling you with the phone.”

Steve smiles. “Well, I’m proud you figured out how to use the phone and that you didn’t break Alisha’s rules.”

“I ain’t just a pretty face, you—you know.”

Snorting, Steve makes himself comfortable on his pillow, the phone pressed to his ear. “Who says you got a pretty face? Whoever it is, they’re lying.”

“You’re just—just jealous. You had to—had to go into the machine to get a pretty face.”

Steve bursts out laughing and he’s glad the rooms are soundproof. “You should be real glad you ain’t in tickling range.”

“Oh, I’m taking full advantage.”

Chuckling, Steve slowly relaxes. Bucky’s fine, he’s not begging Steve to come back and he’s not making a fuss. He just misses talking to Steve. “Buck, you know we can’t spend the entire night talking.”

“I know. But I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“How were you feeling after I left?”

“It was—it was weird. I started feeling anxious, but then I told myself that you and Alisha wouldn’t make me do something if it ain’t—if it ain’t for my own good. I know we spent most of our lives sharing a bed, but that’s cause we wanted to—”

“Or we had to cause we were poor.”

Bucky chuckles. “That too. But it was never cause one of us would get real upset if we—if we weren’t sleeping together. And I didn’t like that I was so nervous about it. There ain’t—there ain’t no reason for me to be anxious about it, is there?”

“No, no reason at all. You know I ain’t abandoning you and it ain’t about me not wanting to spend the night with you. But being independent’s real important for your health.”

Bucky sighs. “I understand, I really do. But I miss you.”

“I miss you too. You wanna try sleeping for a bit and then you can call me back if you want?”

“I don’t wanna wake you up.”

“I don’t care about that. I can sleep later.”

There’s silence on the other end. Then Bucky sighs softly. “Will you sing me the star song again?”

“You gonna remember to hang up the phone and put it back on the charger afterwards?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me when you’re comfortable.”

He hears some rustling and the crackling of the phone being moved around. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Closing his eyes, Steve launches into the song. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are,” Steve sings softly. “Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky…”

When he’s done the song, he hears Bucky quietly breathing over the phone.

“Good night, Buck. I love you,” he whispers.

“Night, Stevie. I love you more,” Bucky whispers. Steve can hear the cheeky grin in his voice and it makes him smile as he hangs up the phone.

He forces himself to get up and put the phone back on the charger. When he’s back in bed he buries himself into his blankets, determined to ride this wave of calmness that he’s created in an attempt to get some sleep.

Not allowing himself to focus on his anxious thoughts works wonders and he falls asleep soon after.

* * *

The next time he opens his eyes, he’s pleasantly surprised to discover that it’s morning. Well, early morning. Too early to get started for the day, but not too early to go see Bucky. Throwing the covers of himself, he stuffs his feet into his shoes, snags his key fob off the bedside table and hurries out of the room and goes to Bucky’s door.

Keying in the code, he waits for the click and eagerly opens the door, a smile on his face.

Bucky’s lying in bed, smiling at him. “Morning, Stevie! See? I followed Alisha’s instructions so—so well. I was in bed when you—when you left and I’m in bed when you came back.”

Chuckling, Steve hurries to the bed and sits down. Bucky pushes himself up and Steve pulls him into his arms, holding him tight. They’d just been separated for a few hours, but Steve’s missed him so much. He’s about to tell Bucky that…but that wouldn’t be following Alisha’s instructions. If Steve turns this into an overly dramatic reunion with too much emotion, it’ll be harder for Bucky to deal with being separated again. No matter how badly Steve wants to smoother Bucky in kisses and never let him go, he has to follow the plan.

“I’m real proud of you, Buck,” he murmurs into Bucky’s hair.

Bucky sighs happily. “I’m—I’m proud of myself too. I was anxious before I called you, but then I was calm. I knew you were just one telephone call away and I knew I’d see you again this morning.”

Steve smiles. He can’t believe how much progress Bucky’s already made. “You did great, pal. Alisha and Wen are gonna be real proud of you too.”

Bucky snuggles against Steve’s shirt but he’s not clinging to Steve as tightly as Steve thought he would. That’s good too. It makes Steve’s heart clench a bit, but he doesn’t comment about it. He has to stick to their plan. “So how did things go after we got off the phone? Did you fall asleep right away?”

“Uh huh. But then I woke up a few hours later cause I had to pee. I got scared at first cause I didn’t remember where I was or why you weren’t here, but then I looked outside and saw the trees and the stars and that calmed me down. They were exactly where they’d been—where they’d been when I went to sleep. I liked that.”

“That’s good. What happened when you went to the bathroom?” Steve’s heart clenches, desperately hoping that Bucky had remembered to put on his helmet and that he hadn’t had a seizure.

“Don’t worry, I put on my—my helmet. I went real slow and everything was fine, but then I had a seizure.”

Steve’s heart leaps into his throat and he tightens his arms around Bucky. His mind fills with nightmare images: Bucky hurting himself as he fell, Bucky waking up alone and scared on the floor, crying for Steve and not knowing where he was.

“What happened when you woke up?” Steve asks, terrified to hear the answer.

“It was okay. Alisha was there when I woke up and so was the man from the phone. He introduced himself but I forgot his name.”

Steve’s brain is still numb with worry and he can’t recall the man’s name either.

“Alisha was real happy that I wore my helmet cause I didn’t hurt myself too bad. I banged my elbow on something when I fell down, but that’s it.”

Bucky sounds so damn matter of fact about the whole thing. As if it’s not a big deal. As if this isn’t reason enough for Steve to shove them into a taxi and go back to their hotel room. This is a perfect example of his overprotectiveness throwing a shadow over everything, including common sense. Having the seizure hadn’t terrified Bucky. Even though he’d woken up only a minute after having it, trained staff members had been alerted and had come to help him. Bucky had put on his helmet all by himself and he seems to be taking his safety seriously.

The whole situation went as well as it possibly could have gone. How would Steve being here have helped Bucky? Bucky had felt comfortable with Alisha and whatever-his-name-is and Steve couldn’t have helped prevent Bucky’s seizure from happening in the first place. So instead of getting hysterical over Bucky having had a seizure—which was unavoidable—Steve has to make sure Bucky knows he’s as happy with how things had gone as Bucky is. “Well, it ain’t good that you had a seizure, but you did a great job.”

Bucky pulls back and smiles shyly. “Yeah? I’m happy that I put on my helmet.”

Steve forces himself to smile. “I’m real happy about that too. And you did so good when you stayed calm and you recognized Alisha.”

Bucky shifts a bit and makes a face. “I wanted to call you, but Alisha told me you were sleeping and she reminded me I was fine. If I didn’t need your help, then I shouldn’t wake you up.”

Steve’s about to say that Bucky can wake him up whenever he wants to—but that’s not what Alisha would want him to say. Alisha and Bucky are doing a great job at lowering Bucky’s dependence on Steve and it would hurt Bucky’s progress if Steve deliberately puts a dent in that. “That was real nice of you. You know you can call me if you need help, but if there’s other people around who can help you just as good as I can, then it’s great that you let them help you.”

Bucky stares at him, looking uncertain. “So it’s okay if I like it when Alisha and other people help me?”

That irrationally jealous part of Steve wants to say ‘no’, but that’s not the right answer. “Of course it is!”

That makes Bucky smile again and it reinforces that Steve’s doing the right thing. All of these small steps are essential for Bucky’s future and Steve has to keep remembering that.


	16. Chapter 16

Wen comes in an hour later, chit-chats with them about how their night had been and asks them to eat breakfast in the dining hall with all the other patients. To Steve’s pleasant surprise, Bucky agrees without a fuss.

“But first, Bucky you need to put on your helmet and you both need to get changed. I’ll help you both choose what you’ll wear today, then you’ll both get yourselves dressed and we’ll all have breakfast together.”

Steve freezes. The ‘Bucky will dress himself’ part had been heavily implied and as usual, it hadn’t been framed it as a question. And nor should it have been. Bucky is capable of dressing himself and this is a nice way to allow Bucky to feel as if Steve’s still involved in the process but to have them move towards having Bucky do it himself.

Bucky frowns and doesn’t look happy with that, but when Wen gives Steve a meaningful look, Steve pushes aside his own misgivings and leaps into action. Going to the duffel bag with their clothes—well, technically they’re all Steve’s but now they’ve also become Bucky’s—Steve hoists the bag onto the bed.

“Okay, Buck, let’s go! The faster we get dressed, the faster we can go eat breakfast. I wonder what’s for breakfast today, huh? Maybe they’ll have eggs? You like eggs. Do they have eggs, Wen?”

Wen smiles. “Yup, they have eggs. Lots and lots of eggs. What other breakfast food do you like, Bucky?”

Bucky’s silent, sitting in bed and staring between Wen, Steve and the bag of clothes on the bed. “I dunno.”

“That’s alright, we’ll go down and see what you like. Before we get started on picking clothes, I wanted to give you a present, Bucky.”

Blinking, Bucky looks interested at the mention of a present. “What present?”

Smiling, Wen pulls a simple watch out of his pocket and holds it out. “This is a wristwatch for you. I think it’ll be good for you to keep track of time by yourself. What do you think?”

Bucky’s eyes light up and he gets up to go to Wen. But to Steve’s surprise, he pauses and grabs his helmet from the bedside table and puts it on before he approaches Wen. Reaching out, Bucky takes the watch out of Wen’s hand. Studying the face of the watch, he smiles. “Oh, it’s got numbers on it! I like that. I’ve seen some normal watches that had the long hands on ‘em, but I forgot how to read those ones.”

“That’s alright. If you want to, we can teach you how to read those ones. But this one is very simple. Just black numbers on a white background.”

Smiling, Bucky holds out the watch towards Steve. “Look! I got my own watch! I can tell time by myself now.”

Steve’s frozen by the bed with his hands on the duffel bag zipper, overwhelmed with guilt. He’d never even considered getting Bucky a watch. Why would Bucky need a watch if Steve’s in charge of his entire schedule and keeps an eye on the time for him? It hadn’t occurred to him because it had been unnecessary in the closed-off world Steve had created for Bucky. He can’t imagine never knowing what time it is and having to rely on somebody else to tell him when to do certain things. It’s such a small thing, but from the smile on Bucky’s face, it’s clear that he appreciates the watch and what it represents.

Bucky’s oblivious to Steve’s guilt and he’s still holding out the watch towards him, so Steve steps over and takes it from him, staring down at it. Like Wen had said, it’s a simple digital watch. Steve never bothers wearing a watch because he usually has his phone within reach, but Bucky’s definitely not ready to use a cellphone. Maybe Bucky will never be comfortable handling one of the complex computer phones that Steve uses, so this watch is perfect. “It’s a real nice watch. That was nice of Wen, huh?”

Bucky’s eyes widen. “Oh, sh—oh, I forgot.” He turns to Wen. “Thank you for the watch, Wen. I really love it.”

Wen smiles. “You’re welcome. Do you notice that the strap is just one continuous band? It’s elastic so you can put it on and take it off with one hand. Once you’re using your metal hand more, I’ll get you one with a nice leather strap, okay?”

A shadow crosses Bucky’s face at the mention of him using his metal arm, but Wen doesn’t let him dwell on it. “Why don’t I show you how to put your watch on, Bucky?”

He gestures for Bucky to come over to the desk and Steve stands there—feeling completely useless—as Wen shows Bucky how to use his fingers to expand the metallic elastic band wide enough to slip over his hand and use the edge of the desk to slide it down to his wrist.

Once Bucky has it on, he lifts his wrist and shows it to Steve, the morning sunlight glinting off the silver metal of the watch. “Look! Ain’t it look nice? Oh, I love it!”

Steve grins, feeling happy that Bucky’s happy, but still feeling out of sorts.

Wen’s giving Steve a contemplative look, but his attention remains on Bucky. Because Bucky’s the patient here and Steve needs to push his own stupid feelings aside.

“Bucky, can you tell me what time it is right now?” Wen asks.

“Yes, I can! Cause I’ve got—I’ve got a watch now!” Bucky makes a big show out of pulling his wrist closer to his face and studying the face of the watch. “It’s 7:25.”

Wen laughs. “Yes, it is! Great job. Alright, let’s start dealing with your clothes. Steve, let’s get the bag over to the closet and I’ll show you how to organize everything, then we’ll have you both choose your clothes.”

Steve dutifully brings the bag to the closet and Wen hauls it open. There hadn’t been any reason for Steve to open the closet yesterday, so this is the first time he’s looking at it. He notices there are a few drawers inside, along with a long bar filled with plastic hangers and a shelf above the bar. The drawers and the shelf above the bar have labels on them: underwear, socks, shirts, pants etc.

Wen unzips the bag. “Can you start hanging up the shirts and sweaters and I’ll work on the rest?”

While his brain is wondering how on earth Wen expects Bucky to pick out his clothes by himself without getting frustrated or making a fuss, Steve bends over the bag and dutifully pulls out the shirts and starts hanging them up. He hadn’t brought a lot of clothes for them so they’re done relatively quickly.

Once Wen has checked that the clothes are in the right sections, he waves Bucky over. “Come on, Bucky. Let me show you how you’re going to pick out your own clothes.”

Bucky’s frowning. “Steve picks out my clothes.”

“Yes, I know, but this is something you can do by yourself.”

Steve’s prepared for a fuss, but Bucky just looks down at his watch. “It’s 7:31.”

Wen smiles. “That’s right! So we have to hurry or we’ll be late for breakfast. Come on, I’ll show you what steps to follow and you’ll be done in no time.”

Bucky shuffles over to stand between Steve and Wen. Steve’s tempted to put his arm around Bucky, but he remembers the rule about no unnecessary dramatics. Wen’s not asking Bucky to go travel around the country by himself. He’s just asking him to participate in picking clothes to wear for the day.

Wen points at a whiteboard that’s been attached to the inside of the closet. It lists different steps with an empty column next to them. A whiteboard marker is stuck to the board and Wen takes it off and uses it as a pointer. “You see all the tasks written in this column, Bucky?”

Bucky nods cautiously but still looks unhappy.

“This is the order in which you’re going to pick out and put on your clothes. Every time you’re done with a task, you put a checkmark next to it, just like on your schedule.”

Steve can feel Bucky staring at him, but he keeps his gaze on the whiteboard, pretending to be fascinated by what Wen’s saying.

“Steve, why don’t you go first?” Wen steps back from the closet and Steve doesn’t let himself worry about Bucky, he just follows the list on the closet.

“Okay, I gotta take off the clothes I’m wearing.” Steve strips down quickly and efficiently and Wen hands him the marker.

“Great job, Steve. Go ahead and put a checkmark next to that item.”

Steve makes a checkmark, actually feeling a little proud of himself. Bucky’s still frowning at him and he knows if he doesn’t keep their momentum going or if he gives Bucky any indication that he’ll give in and not follow Wen’s orders, Bucky will start making a fuss.

“Now I gotta pick out some socks from the sock drawer.”

Pulling open the drawer labelled ‘socks’, he takes out a pair of socks and he gets to make another checkmark on the board. After the socks have been put on his feet, he’s earned a third checkmark.

Throwing Bucky a grin, Steve nods at the whiteboard. “You see that? I’ve got three checkmarks already. And I still got lots of clothes I gotta put on.”

He keeps up a steady stream of chatter and Wen keeps praising him and handing him the marker to add more checkmarks. When Steve’s dressed, Wen congratulates him for a job well done—Steve’s still feeling very proud of himself—but then it’s Bucky’s turn.

“Alright, let me erase Steve’s checkmarks and it’s time for Bucky to do it,” Wen says, making Steve’s beautiful checkmarks disappear and readying the board for Bucky.

Steve shoots Bucky a grin. “Ready? You can do it, Buck.”

Bucky still looks unhappy. “I don’t wanna. I like it when you do it.”

“I know, but it’s important that you can do it yourself.”

“I don’t wanna do it by myself. I don’t think it’s—it’s important,” Bucky mumbles.

Wen gives Bucky a kind smile. “Do you like having your watch, Bucky?”

Steve sees Bucky glancing down at his new watch. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Cause I like knowing what time it is.”

“You like being able to tell the time by yourself, don’t you? That makes you feel good, doesn’t it?”

Bucky makes a face, but he nods. “Yeah.”

“Just imagine how good it’ll make you feel when you can dress yourself.”

“But I want Steve to do it.”

“Just because Steve isn’t helping you get dressed doesn’t mean Steve stopped loving you and it doesn’t mean he won’t help you with anything ever again. You remember yesterday we talked about your big goal? What was that big goal?”

Bucky shrugs. “I dunno.”

Steve’s feeling a bit left out of the conversation, but he knows that Bucky knows the answer to that question.

Wen isn’t letting Bucky off the hook so easily. “Sure you do. It had to do with who you wanted to be. Do you remember who you want to be?”

Letting out a sigh, Bucky pulls another face, but he does respond. “I wanna be the best Bucky Barnes I can be.”

“And why is that important? What did Dr. Stewart say yesterday?”

It takes Steve a second to remember that Dr. Melanie Stewart is Bucky’s new therapist.

“She said—she said it’s important that I’m the best Bucky Barnes I can be cause that’ll make me happy and it’ll make Steve happy.”

Wen smiles. “That’s right! Good job for remember what she said.”

It’s weird to hear Wen and Bucky talking about something that had happened to Bucky without Steve being present. Bucky had told Steve that he’d met with the ‘brain doctor’ yesterday but he hadn’t told Steve any details about it other than the doctor being nice. Steve hadn’t minded, since he’d assumed he’d be kept up to date on everything that goes on during Bucky’s sessions…

…but he’s realizing that probably won’t be the case. That’s worrying and also annoying, but Steve is forced to admit that it’s how things should be. If the situation were reversed, how would Steve feel if Bucky were told every detail of Steve’s therapy session without Steve’s consent?

Bucky and Wen are both staring at him and Steve hasn’t been paying attention. “Sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Wen asked if you agree that me being the best Bucky Barnes is still—is still important to you.” Bucky’s tone of voice suggests that Steve should say ‘no’ and then they’ll head back to DC.

But that’s not the right answer. “Yeah, that’s real important to me. And I think it’s important to you too.”

Bucky makes a face again, but he finally sighs. “Yeah, it’s important to me too.” Looking at the whiteboard hanging on the closet door, he reaches up and starts struggling to pull his shirt off.

It doesn’t go very well and Steve can see Bucky clench his jaw when the shirt gets stuck underneath both of his arm pits.

“How about you try using your metal arm to help you, Bucky?” Wen suggests, his tone light as if that’s not a big deal.

Bucky’s face darkens and he shakes his head. “No. I don’t—I don’t wanna—I don’t use that thing.” He sounds angry and it makes Steve’s heart sink. It occurs to him that maybe this had been a test. The staff hadn’t asked Bucky to use his metal arm for anything yet. In fact, neither had Steve.

He’d always just assumed Bucky either couldn’t use it or he forgot about its presence. But Bucky’s angry tone makes it clear that there are underlying issues connected to his arm. That’s something Steve hadn’t even thought about and he mentally kicks himself.

“Okay, no problem. Can I help you take your shirt off?” Wen asks.

Steve holds his breath and meets Bucky’s gaze when he stares at him, but Steve gives him an encouraging smile.

Bucky lets out an annoyed sigh. “Okay.”

He lifts his arms and Wen quickly pulls the shirt off him. It’s a bit tough getting the shirt over the helmet, but Wen manages to tug it off. Wen encourages Bucky to take off his pajama pants by himself, which isn’t as difficult with one hand.

Once Bucky’s undressed, Wen praises him and holds out the whiteboard marker. Putting a careful checkmark next to the ‘undress’ task, a small smile appears on Bucky’s face.

“What’s next, Bucky?” Wen asks.

“Pick out a pair of socks,” Bucky reads from the whiteboard. He frowns and looks around the closet as if he can’t quite remember what socks are or where they’re hiding.

Wen points at the task on the whiteboard and indicates the bolded word ‘socks’. “You see the word ‘socks’ is written in a very dark color? That means you need to find that word in the closet. Can you see the label that says ‘socks’?”

Bucky looks around the closet and grins when he sees the drawer labelled ‘socks’. “That one,” he says, pointing at it.

“Great job! Go ahead and pick out a pair of socks.”

Pulling the drawer open, Bucky stares into it, looking nervous. “How—how do I know which one’s the right one?”

“There’s no right one. Just grab whichever pair you want.”

Bucky chews on his lip and his hand hesitates before it grabs a pair of socks and holds them up. “Are these right?”

“All the socks are right, so those are perfect!” Wen says, sounding thrilled and holding out the marker so Bucky can mark off the sock retrieval.

As Bucky moves through the steps, he seems to gain more enthusiasm about the process. He especially seems to enjoy putting checkmarks next to each item and counting how many he’s already done and how many are left.

It’s making Steve realize that he’s absolutely not needed here. He’s also realizing that his presence might be more detrimental to Bucky than helpful. Bucky had done so well during the night. He’d figured out how to call Steve all by himself, he’d put on his helmet before going to the bathroom and he’d handled his seizure well too. This morning, he’d started out well and then gradually slid back to being more helpless and child-like.

Maybe it’s Steve’s presence that’s creating that backwards slide? Maybe Bucky knows there’s a chance that Steve will give in and do things for him and that’s why he’d stopped forcing himself to progress? Now that Steve’s just a silent shadow and Wen is guiding Bucky through the steps, he’s not showing any sign of anxiety.

The more time goes by, the more Steve realizes that everything Alisha and Wen had told him is true. Steve’s constant physical presence won’t help Bucky. It’ll just allow Bucky to stay stuck where he is. While Steve wants to spend every second of every day by Bucky’s side, he knows what he needs to do.

So he stays silent while Wen and Bucky continue moving through the dressing routine and only after Bucky puts the final checkmark on the board and he’s standing there after having dressed without Steve’s direct help for the first time since Steve had rescued him, does Steve grin at him.

“Great job, Buck! Look at you! Wen just had to help you put on your shirt and sweater, but you did everything else by yourself!”

Bucky’s smiling, looking very proud of himself. “And it wasn’t real hard. I thought it would be, but everything’s written down and I like the labels in the closet.”

“You did fantastic and you should be very proud of yourself,” Wen tells him.

Nodding, Bucky does look proud of himself. “I’m proud of myself. I didn’t think I could do it. I thought I’d get scared if Steve isn’t helping me, but it went okay.”

“Yes, it did! Are you ready to go down and eat breakfast?”

“Yeah! I’m hungry. I did so much work already this morning,” he says, smirking at both of them and all of his earlier anxiety gone.

And that right there is exactly why Steve has to get himself out of the center as quickly as he can and let Bucky continue this journey with the professionals who will help him properly.

Unfortunately, that’s easier said than done.

* * *

After breakfast, Wen gives Bucky his schedule for the day but to Steve’s surprise, he doesn’t get a schedule.

Wen smiles at him. “You have an important job today, Steve. We want you to go into town and spend the day exploring. When Bucky does outings with the group, he’s going to visiting the shops in town and it’ll be nice if you’re already familiar with the area when Bucky talks about them.”

Steve can read between the lines. He’s sure Wen doesn’t care what Steve will do during the day, as long as he’s away from Bucky. This is what needs to happen, but Steve’s heart feels heavy at the thought of not getting to see Bucky all day.

And based on Bucky’s frown, Bucky doesn’t like that either. “But I want—I want Steve to stay—to stay with me. I need—I need—I need—”

Wen smiles kindly. “Take a deep breath, Bucky. If you’re having trouble finding your words, we can do the counting.”

Bucky’s frown has turned into a glare and Steve prepares himself for a melt-down.

But Wen’s not acting like he’s sitting in front of a volcano that’s about to erupt. “I’d like to know why you’re upset, but you need to use your words for that. Take a breath and let’s count, okay?”

Bucky’s breathing very fast and his face twists underneath the helmet’s shield. But to Steve’s surprise, Bucky’s next words aren’t more garbled phrases, but numbers. “1…2…3…4…5.” His tone is petulant, but the counting has the intended effect of distracting him from his anxiety and calms him down.

“Great job! You know the drill, now backwards.”

Glaring at Wen, Bucky obediently counts backwards from five. After doing it multiple times, Bucky abruptly stops counting and sits there, breathing calmly but still looking annoyed. “I don’t like Steve not being here cause if I get scared then I want Steve to be here.”

Steve’s heart squeezes, but he knows he has to stay out of this conversation.

“Nobody wants you to be scared, Bucky. If you do get scared, then we’ll all help you. And Steve is always just one phone call away.”

That makes Bucky’s glare ease up a bit. “I can call Steve whenever I want?”

“Absolutely! Steve will always be close to a phone, won’t he?”

Steve nods. “Of course! You can call me whenever you want.”

“What if—what if they make me do something I don’t wanna do?” Bucky asks, staring at Steve.

“Then you explain to them—using your words—why you don’t wanna do it and you can have a discussion about it. This program is to help you. They’d never make you do something that ain’t good for you.”

Bucky’s glare has vanished and he stares at his empty breakfast plate—which he’d eaten all by himself without any prompting—and appears to think about it for a while. “Okay, fine. I’ll try. When are you coming back?”

Steve looks at Wen, who responds for him. “Steve will be back after dinner. He’ll be there when you and I do your night time routine and he’ll sleep in his own room again.”

Steve hates the idea of having to be away from Bucky for the entire day, especially ‘in town’, which means Steve won’t be nearby if Bucky has a seizure or gets upset. But Steve has to do this. He can’t let any panic show on his face or Bucky will dissolve into a puddle of anxiety and that’ll get them nowhere. The staff had proven that they can take care of Bucky, haven’t they? And Bucky’s also proven that this program is exactly what he needs. Steve has to stay onboard with the plan and think about Bucky’s future.

* * *

Leaving Bucky after breakfast is just as heartbreaking as it has been last night, but once again, Steve doesn’t allow himself to make a huge fuss.

He writes his cellphone number on a piece of paper that he sticks to Bucky’s bedside table, he and Bucky go through Bucky’s schedule and Steve tries to get him excited about seeing familiar faces and doing lots of fun things, then Steve grabs his sketching supplies and jumps into a taxi that takes him into town.

He’s hoping to distract himself by sketching in a busy coffee shop or on a street bench where he can work on Bucky’s sketches and watch the hustle and bustle of people around him…

…but it turns out that the town has no hustle and bustle. In fact, the ‘town’ is a fifteen minute drive from the rehab center and it’s very small. There’s only one traffic light—at the intersection of ‘Main Street’ and ‘Oak Avenue’—and he barely sees any people. Despite the small size of the town, Steve counts three churches.

When the cab drops him off in the middle of ‘town’, Steve just stands on the sidewalk for a while, clutching his sketchpad and thinking the place must be a ghost town.

But as he stands there, he gradually starts hearing and seeing more movement. A person comes out of a bakery, a cheerful bell tingling above the door as she exits and calls “See you tomorrow, Gladys!” over her shoulder. Two women pushing baby strollers walk past him, talking about how terrible Emma’s new hair cut is and why on earth did she show up at church without looking in a mirror first?

An elderly man is sweeping the sidewalk in front of a hardware store and he smiles when he catches Steve staring at him. “Good morning, sir! How are you?” The man calls over.

Steve forces a polite smile on his face. “Fine, thank you.”

“I haven’t seen you around these parts before. Are you visiting somebody?”

The whole thing is starting to make Steve anxious. Back in the 30s, he’d been accustomed to everybody knowing who he and Bucky were and he’d enjoyed that community feel. But after coming out of the ice and dealing with the notoriety of being Captain America, that got old fast. This is why he prefers the hustle and bustle of DC or Brooklyn. He’s just another random person. As long as he keeps his face hidden, nobody cares who he is and where he’s going. Steve’s discovering that he actually really likes that anonymity.

But if Bucky’s going to be at the rehab facility for 6 months, it means Steve will have to make this town his home for 6 months. Smiling, Steve walks towards the man. “No, sir. I have a family member who’s staying at a nearby medical clinic.”

The old man squints at him but luckily doesn’t appear to recognize him. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Which medical clinic?”

Steve…really doesn’t want to tell this stranger personal information that’s none of his business. Especially information about Bucky. But he should try to stay polite. “I’m not comfortable discussing that, sir.”

The man chuckles. “Oh, it’s fine, son. We don’t have secrets around here. We get lots of folks from all over coming to the centers around here.”

Steve’s really not enjoying this conversation. “That may be, but I prefer to keep my business to myself. Good day to you, sir.”

Before the man can complain or try to shove himself even further into Steve’s business, Steve quickly walks away from him, wondering where the hell he can go sit where he won’t be bothered until he can go back to the center.

Sitting on a bench will probably make him a sitting target for anybody walking past who wants to talk to the new stranger in town. Going into the small diner he sees will probably mean the same thing. He eventually decides to book a room at the only motel in town, a small six room place where the owners do most things themselves and immediately start prying into Steve’s business when he asks for a room. He manages to escape their never-ending chatter and questions and spends the rest of the day in his room, working on sketches for Bucky and keeping an eye on his phone in case Bucky calls.

He’s very sure that Bucky will have at least one melt-down during the day and he anxiously waits for that phone call as the minutes tick by and his pile of Bucky-related sketches grows bigger.

In the early afternoon, his anxiety is rewarded when his phone starts to ring. The phone number looks strange but there’s nobody else who would call him right now. Sam had asked Steve to text him once a day but he wouldn’t call until Steve gave him the all-clear.

Steve grabs his phone and nearly drops it in his haste to answer it. “Hello?” He gasps out, his heart in his throat.

“Stevie?”

Bucky’s voice sounds normal, but that doesn’t mean anything. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing. I just have a fifteen—fifteen minute break and Wen told me I’m allowed to do whatever I want in those fifteen minutes, so I’m doing exactly that.”

It takes Steve a second to understand that Bucky’s fine. Not only is he physically fine, but he sounds so much better than he had this morning. Not a lot of stuttering, no mumbling, no simplistic phrases.

This is his Bucky Barnes.

Steve’s heart soars at that, but then his stomach clenches and he’s actually a bit…disappointed? Because Steve’s not there with him and Bucky’s fine. Bucky had a melt-down this morning when Steve had been there, but now Steve’s been away for him for almost half a day and Bucky’s perfectly fine.

He tries reminding himself that he’s not being fair. Bucky’s melt-down wasn’t necessarily tied to Steve’s presence and Steve has no idea whether Bucky has had melt-downs this morning or not. But he can’t help but feel jealous and unwanted.

Bucky’s oblivious to his mood and he’s chattering about what he’d done that morning. Apparently, he’s sitting in his favorite chair by the windows in his room and he’s carried the phone and his schedule over so he can keep track of what he’s telling Steve while he stares out at the scenery. Apparently, he’d had two seizures but Wen was with him both times. He visited Dr. Joshua and they’ve changed the medication they’re giving him.

“And in…hang on…let me check my schedule and my watch. Okay…lemme just do the math…uh...5...6...7...okay, I got it! In seven minutes, I’m gonna go eat lunch and then Wen and I are gonna play games. I don’t—I don’t know what games, but Wen says it’ll be fun. I’m looking forward to that.”

Bucky sounds happy and Steve really wishes he felt the same way. But he’s just feeling jealous and left out. “That’s great, buddy. I’m real proud of you. You’re doing so well.”

There’s a pause. Then: “Why—why are you mad?”

Shit. Apparently, he hadn’t done a good enough job of hiding his mopey tone. “I ain’t mad.”

“You sound weird.”

Great job, Rogers. He’s upsetting Bucky with his stupid mood and that’s the last thing he should be doing. “I’m sorry, Buck. I really ain’t mad, I’m just a bit grumpy.”

“Why? You don’t like the town? Wen says I’m gonna like going—going to town. He says it’s nice and quiet.”

Yes, it is and that’s why Steve hates it. But the town isn’t the main reason behind his bad mood and he doesn’t want to color Bucky’s perception of this place before he’s had the chance to experience it for himself. He has no idea if Bucky will enjoy being surrounded by busy-bodies.

“No, the town’s fine.” He struggles to come up with a good excuse for his mood. If he tells Bucky that he’s grumpy because he wishes Bucky needed his help more then Bucky will undo all of his progress in the blink of an eye to make Steve happy. And that can’t happen. “I’m just worried that they ain’t found the right medication for your seizures yet.”

“Oh, I was too. But Dr—Dr. Joshua says that’s normal. I’m not having as many seizures as before so that’s good progress. It’ll be okay, Stevie.”

Now Steve feels even worse because Bucky’s comforting him, while it should be the other way around. Time to change the subject and fast. “So did you see Alisha today?”

“Who’s Alisha?”

Great. “She’s—”

“Oh, wait! I gotta—I gotta—hang on. I got a new—wait. Don’t tell me.” There’s a shuffling noise, then Bucky lets out a triumphant sound. “Oh, I know Alisha! She’s—she’s on my paper.”

Steve frowns, feeling left out again. “What paper?”

“Wen gave me a paper with my care—my care team’s pictures on it. I ain’t good at remembering names so it’s got everybody’s pictures, their names and what they do. When I meet them, I put a gold star next to their photo. That’s important. I’ve got…let me count…five, six...I’ve got six stars so far. That’s six people, Steve!”

“That’s…that’s great, Buck! I’m real impressed you’re keeping track of everybody.”

“Yeah, it works real well. Oh! Oh, I gotta go. My watch says I gotta go to lunch. Are you gonna go eat lunch too?”

That’s not a bad idea. “Yeah, I’ll go eat lunch.”

“Okay, have a good lunch! I’ll see you after dinner and I’ll tell you—I’ll tell you about the games Wen and I play. I hope it’ll be fun.”

“I hope so too, pal.”

“Oh, and Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

“You do something fun too, okay?”

Steve smiles sadly. He can’t even begin to come up with fun activities to do when he needs to spend his time worrying over Bucky and how useless Steve feels. “I will, buddy.”


	17. Chapter 17

Lunch and dinner gets combined into one as Steve goes into a grocery store and grabs a few plastic wrapped sandwiches and he finishes all of Bucky’s sketches by the time he can finally call a taxi and go back to the center.

He checks in at the front desk and hurries up to Bucky’s room, but after keying in the code and entering, he discovers it’s empty. Bucky must still be at dinner. Putting his stack of sketches on the desk, he sits in one of the chairs by the window and waits.

A few minutes later, the door opens and Bucky comes in, talking to Wen.

“—eat your chicken any time you don’t—you don’t wanna finish it, pal. Oh, Steve! Hi!”

Getting out of his chair, Steve hurries towards Bucky, grinning at the big smile on Bucky’s face. He’s wearing his helmet and he looks happy.

“Hey, Buck!” Reaching Bucky, Steve pulls him into a hug and Bucky wraps his arm around him and grips the back of his shirt, his helmet smacking into the side of Steve’s head.

“I missed you,” Bucky mumbles.

“I missed you too.”

Wen’s standing by the door and Steve gives him a wave without releasing Bucky. “Hi, Wen.”

“Hi, Steve. How was your day?”

“Good! Town was interesting.”

Wen chuckles and raises his eyebrows at him as if he knows he’s lying, but he doesn’t comment about it. “Did you finish the sketches?”

“Yeah.” Steve points at the stack of drawings on the desk.

“Great! Can you work on putting them into frames and putting them up around Bucky’s room? Alisha’s gonna come by in a bit to look at them.”

“Okay.”

Wen gives him a smile. “Alright, I’ll leave you two to catch up. I’ll be back at 8 o’clock to help with Bucky’s night time routine.”

“We’re gonna—gonna use another whiteboard,” Bucky says, still clinging to Steve.

“That’s right, Bucky. Alright, see you later.” Wen shuts the door and Steve’s finally alone with Bucky.

Bucky pulls back from him and he’s still smiling, but he looks worried. “You sure you’re—you’re okay? You sounded so weird on the phone.”

Steve does his best to keep his smile natural. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just worried over your seizures.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bucky gives him a long look from behind his face shield. “I think you’re lying, but I’m gonna let you lie. I got—I got lots to tell you about.”

Taking Steve’s hand, Bucky pulls him over to their chairs and sits in his own chair while he leaves Steve to sit in the other one. It’s on the tip of Steve’s tongue to say that he wants to sit with Bucky because he’s missed him, but he knows that’s not part of the plan. He just has to wait 6 months and then he’ll be able to cling to Bucky as much as he wants without destroying the hard work that everybody’s doing.

“Remember I told you that Wen and I played—played a game?”

“Uh huh.”

“It was called Memory.” Bucky frowns. “But—but I ain’t remember how—how it went.”

Frowning, Steve leans forward and squeezes Bucky’s thigh. “That’s alright, Buck. We can ask—”

Then Bucky bursts out laughing. “I’m kidding! Oh, I got you good, didn’t I? Oh, that would—that would be funny, if I played a game called ‘Memory’ and forgot how it went!” He’s laughing and kicks at Steve’s feet.

Rolling his eyes, Steve chuckles at the joke. “Jerk. You got me.”

“I got you real good, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

Bucky’s still laughing, delighted with himself. “We didn’t—we didn’t play with a lot of cards. Only a few pairs but Wen—but Wen says when I get better, we can—we can use more cards.”

Reaching up, Bucky unsnaps the chin strap of his helmet and puts it down by his feet. Sitting back in his chair, he kicks off his shoes, throws his feet onto Steve’s lap and wiggles them. “My toes missed you, punk.”

Smiling, Steve lightly grabs Bucky’s toes and wiggles them. “Just your toes?”

Bucky frowns with exaggerated concentration. “Well…maybe a few of my—of my fingers too. And one of my ears. But that’s it.”

Laughing, Steve smacks Bucky’s feet and Bucky laughs and digs his heels into Steve’s stomach as retaliation. All of Steve’s earlier bad mood has disappeared and he feels fine again. In fact, he feels fantastic. Bucky’s acting so much like his old self. Well, not exactly his old self. He’s a little quieter, he’s still stuttering, but this is the Bucky Barnes Steve wants to be around twenty-four hours a day.

Bucky catches up Steve on how his day had gone, using his schedule and his list of staff members’ pictures and names to keep himself on track. To Steve’s pleasant surprise, he notices how Bucky keeps one finger on an item on his schedule while he talks about it, so whenever he loses track of what he’s saying, he doesn’t even need Steve’s prompting because he just looks down and sees where he was.

It makes Steve a bit sad that Bucky no longer needs his help keeping track of his conversations, but that’s not something Steve is supposed to comment on because that’s not helpful.

Steve shows Bucky the pictures he’d sketched and he’s glad that Bucky seems excited about them. He shows Bucky the pictures of Bucky and him when they were younger, pictures of Bucky’s family, a few pictures of Steve, Steve’s ma and random scenes from their childhood.

Bucky smiles sadly when he sees the sketch of his family. “I don’t remember ‘em.”

“That’s okay. You might get those memories back when more time passes. Don’t worry about it.”

Bucky seems happy with that and they put the sketches into picture frames and Bucky decides where he wants to put them. His first choice is to put a sketch of Steve on his bedside table, positioned so Bucky will see it whenever he’s lying in bed. “If you’re gonna be gone during the days and nights, then I wanna see you whenever I want. That’s—that’s important.” Bucky’s staring at Steve from behind his face shield as if Steve’s an idiot.

Steve’s heart glows. “That’s a good choice.”

Grabbing the picture frame that contains the other picture of Steve, Bucky walks to the window. “I wanna put—I wanna put the other picture of you on your chair by the window.”

He makes his way to the two chairs and carefully puts Steve’s picture on Steve’s usual chair. “There. I like that.”

There are so many conflicting emotions in Steve’s belly at that. On the one hand, it warms his heart that Bucky wants to have reminders of him when he’s not here…but he’s a little upset at Bucky being so accepting of Steve not being here. As if Bucky’s perfectly okay with it.

Steve knows that’s not being fair to Bucky. His care team had probably spent all day telling him that soon he won’t be seeing Steve every single day and that’s important for his recovery and Bucky’s worked had to accept that. So Steve’s not going to disrespect that progress by whining about how he wishes Bucky were a lot more upset about the idea of Steve not being here.

But all of those thoughts grind to a halt when Alisha knocks on the door. She wants to see the pictures Steve had drawn and she kneels by Bucky’s side as he sits on his chair and Steve helps him talk about the sketches. She gives Bucky the same response Steve had given him when he sadly comments about not remembering his family and she loves where Bucky had put the sketches of Steve.

“The pictures are wonderful, aren’t they? We’re lucky Steve’s such a good artist.”

Bucky smiles and looks proud. “He’s—he’s better than Michelangelo.”

She laughs. “I agree. Now, I wanted to talk to you both about tomorrow’s plan.”

Steve braces himself. He understands now that Alisha is responsible for a lot of patients and she wouldn’t be spending this much time with them if this weren’t a big deal. There’s a pit growing in his stomach and Steve knows he’s not going to like what she has to say.

“So, Steve can spend the night in his own room again. Then tomorrow, Steve, I’d like you to go back to DC and bring Bucky some more of his clothes.”

Bucky frowns. “When will—when will Steve be back?”

Alisha gives him a kind smile. “Do you remember we talked about how important routine is, Bucky?”

“Uh huh.” Bucky sounds cautious and Steve is bracing himself. If she says something stupid like Steve only being allowed to see Bucky every second day or something else ridiculous, he’s going to put his foot down because that’s not okay. That’s…that’s not okay.

“I’ve finished putting together your schedule and we’re going to have Steve visit every Tuesday and Friday, if that works with his schedule.”

Steve blinks at her.

Tuesday and Friday?!

_Tuesday and Friday?!_

That’s only two days a week! What the hell is he supposed to do for the other five days of the week?! And Bucky can’t possibly go without seeing him at least once a day.

Bucky frowns and Steve prepares himself for his completely justified melt-down…

…but it doesn’t come.

“Steve can only come twice a week cause I’m gonna be real busy, right?” he mumbles, sounding sad but not angry.

“That’s right. But remember what we said about phone calls?”

That makes Bucky smile. “Yeah! We can talk every day.”

Alisha smiles. “Yes, you can. You two can decide when you’d like to do your phone calls but they can’t interfere with your schedule or with Steve’s schedule.”

Bucky nudges Steve’s feet with his own. “Can we talk in the mornings after we wake up? And can we talk in the evening before we go to sleep? So you can sing me the star song and I can tell you about my day?”

Steve’s sitting there, frozen. He hates everything about this. He brought Bucky to this center so they could help him and now they’re going to keep Bucky away from him!

“Steve? We don’t gotta talk twice a day if you don’t wanna.”

Blinking, Steve stares at Bucky, who looks upset and confused. Damn it. His bad mood must be showing on his face. Great. Now he’s also upsetting Bucky. Forcing a smile onto his face, Steve gently nudges Bucky’s feet with his own. “Talking twice a day on the phone’s perfect. We can talk about what you’re gonna do during the day, you can spend your day focusing on your schedule and you can tell me all about how things went when we talk before bed.”

That makes Bucky smile and Steve carefully doesn’t look at Alisha, because he knows she’ll be frowning at him.

Then there’s a weird silence that Steve doesn’t know how to fill.

“Bucky, let me show you tomorrow’s schedule,” Alisha abruptly says, opening up her clipboard and taking out a piece of paper.

Steve can’t focus on what activities Bucky will be doing because he realizes he only has a few more hours left with Bucky. It’s Saturday, which means Steve will bring Bucky his clothes but he probably won’t be allowed to see him. He’ll have to go sit in the stupid town until Tuesday.

Eventually, Wen arrives and asks Bucky to come into the bathroom so they can start their night time routine. Thinking that Bucky will make a fuss if he has to do things like brush his teeth on his own, Steve follows along behind them and steps into the bathroom before closing the door behind him to give them more privacy.

To Steve’s surprise, he sees a new chair in the bathroom. It has high arms on it and it has a wide base to make it sturdy and it’s sitting right in front of the sink. Wen is busy explaining to Bucky how he can sit in the chair and he can brush his teeth, shave and comb his hair while not wearing his helmet but he’ll stay safe if he has a seizure.

Bucky looks curious when he sees the chair and eagerly sits in it, smiling. “I got a new chair, Stevie! You see?”

“I see,” Steve mumbles, trying to sound enthusiastic instead of jealous over a stupid chair. It’s just another example of how everybody’s trying to replace Steve’s role in Bucky’s life.

Wen points at two whiteboards that have been attached to the mirror, one saying ‘morning’ and the other saying ‘evening’. “You see that, Bucky? Those are the steps you can follow for your morning and night-time routines. What’s the first item on the night-time one?”

Bucky leans forward and studies the board. “’Sit down in the chair and undo your helmet.’ Well, I did one part already.”

“Yes, you did! Go ahead and take your helmet off and you can put a checkmark next to that task. Next, we’re gonna work on having a shower, then we’ll come back and finish everything else at the sink.”

Steve watches them, jealousy and disappointment roiling in his gut as he watches Wen slowly moving through the steps, encouraging Bucky to take off his clothes, step into the padded bathtub and sit on the chair in the bathtub. There’s a whiteboard with a magnet on the wall of the shower and Wen shows Bucky how he’ll do the steps to bathe himself and move the magnet along to keep track of his steps.

Listening to Bucky pull the curtain closed and move through the steps of bathing all by himself should fill Steve with nothing but pride, but he just feels useless. There’s no reason for him to be standing in the bathroom. Bucky never calls out for him, doesn’t make a fuss and doesn’t need any help.

Which is…great.

And Steve should be happy about it. But when he catches sight of his reflection in the mirror and sees his sour expression, he decides to step out of the bathroom. Bucky doesn’t need him in here and the last thing Steve wants is to upset Bucky with his stupid mood when Bucky’s doing so well.

Pulling open the door, he steps outside and shuts the door behind him.

Alisha is sitting at Bucky’s desk, scrolling through her phone but she looks up when he comes out. “There you are. Let’s go chat outside for a minute, okay?”

“Okay.” He knows he’s going to get yelled at for his attitude, but he can’t help it. That stupid feeling in his gut only intensifies when he realizes Bucky hasn’t called out for him once. Because Bucky’s fine. He doesn’t need Steve for anything.

Great.

He follows Alisha outside and they stop in the hallway. She shuts the door behind her and gives him a smile he’s familiar with. As he’d predicted, he’s not going to like what she has to say. Well, Steve’s already hated what she’s had to say today, so this won’t be any different.

“Steve, we talked about how important it is for you to follow our plan. We need to be a—”

That makes him mad. “I _am_ following the damn plan! Tell me one time today that I wasn’t following the plan!”

She’s not swayed by his anger. “I realize you’re upset at Bucky’s progress and that’s completely normal.”

“I ain’t upset by Bucky’s progress! That’s baloney! I’m proud of Buck. Quit putting words in my mouth!”

“I’m not saying you’re not proud of him. But Bucky’s not the only one who’s gone through huge changes in the last few days. Your entire world revolved around being Bucky’s caregiver twenty-four hours a day, and having Bucky be more independent leaves an enormous hole in your life. I understand that. This is something a lot of caregivers go through. But it’s something you have to deal with or you’re going to end up hurting Bucky.”

His anger is still simmering in his gut. “I’d never hurt him!”

“Not intentionally, no. But you can’t just focus on Bucky’s life. You have to focus on your own too. You don’t have to be Bucky’s caregiver twenty-four hours a day any more. Bucky’s fine and what he needs you to do is to have a good attitude about the program.”

He makes a face. Her calm words has deflated his anger and now he just feels sad. “It’s hard.”

“Of course, it is. But it’s also very important and you have to keep that in mind. The more upset you get, the more upset Bucky will get and that’ll undo the progress he’s made. If you’re having trouble adjusting to your new role in Bucky’s life then I have resources I can recommend in DC.”

Steve doesn’t care about her resources. But he does have to get rid of this bad attitude because Bucky’s already noticed his mood and Steve refuses to do anything that’ll hurt Bucky. Just because Bucky no longer needs him to feed him and brush his hair doesn’t mean Bucky doesn’t need him. Bucky needs him to pick up his phone whenever he calls. Bucky needs him to read him a story and sing him the star song before he goes to sleep. Bucky needs him to come visit every Tuesday and Friday. In any case, Bucky will only be at the center for six months and then he’ll live with Steve and having Bucky nearby will help Steve’s mood.

So all Steve has to do is wait for six months. During those six months, he has to be supportive and fulfill the limited role he’s allowed to play in Bucky’s role. And he has to get rid of his attitude.

Giving Alisha a small smile, he feels a bit sheepish. “I understand. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“That’s alright, it’s not uncommon. Do you understand what I was saying?”

“Absolutely. I’ll work on my attitude, I promise.”

* * *

The rest of the evening is the best part of the entire day. After his conversation with Alisha is finished, she leaves him and Steve goes back into the room and sits in his chair, clutching the sketch of himself to his chest, listening to Wen praising Bucky in the bathroom. Eventually, they both come out and Bucky’s grinning behind his face shield with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“I did it, Steve! There’s only two more steps to do.”

Steve musters up some enthusiasm. The sooner Bucky finishes getting ready for bed, the sooner Wen will leave and he’ll get to spend time with Bucky again. “Great job! That’s wonderful. What are the last two steps?”

“I gotta—I gotta put on my pajamas and put the towel away.”

Wen guides Bucky through the process of pulling on his pajamas and hanging the wet towel in the bathroom, gives Steve his own key fob to a room down the hall and bids them good night before they’re finally alone.

Steve has a quick shower, brushes his teeth, changes into pajamas and curls up in bed with Bucky and his e-reader.

Bucky picks which story to read and Steve reads a few chapters of the new story with Bucky lying against his chest and smiling happily throughout the story. When Steve notices Bucky’s starting to fall asleep, he turns off the e-reader. “You ready for me to sing the star song, Buck?” Steve asks softly.

“Uh huh,” Bucky mumbles.

Steve desperately wants to stay where he is and fall asleep with Bucky after singing the song. In fact, he remembers that tonight will the last time he’s going to cuddle with Bucky before bed until Tuesday. And maybe he won’t even be allowed to stay until bedtime on Tuesday? It makes him want to cry and he wants to grab Bucky and bring them back to DC so they can go back to the way things were.

But he can’t do that. It doesn’t matter how much his heart is aching and how much he hates the plan. Bucky’s happy here and that’s all that matters.

“Let me get out from under the covers, Buck. Once we’re done the song, I gotta go to my own room.”

Bucky makes a grumpy noise, but slides off Steve and watches him slide out from under the blanket and climb back on top.

Steve tugs the blanket up Bucky’s back and smiles at him. “Comfortable?”

Bucky grins. “I’d be more comfortable if I got a kiss good night. Or a few of ‘em.”

Smiling, Steve bends down and covers Bucky’s face in soft kisses, ending with one on the tip of Bucky’s nose. “There you go, pal. All good?”

Bucky chuckles and lifts his head to kiss Steve’s cheek. “Thanks, Rogers. I got my story, my kisses, now I just need—just need my song.”

“One star song, coming right up, buddy.” Making himself comfortable, Steve watches Bucky’s eyes slide shut as he softly starts singing. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are…”

* * *

Steve barely sleeps a wink that night, very sure that Bucky will call him for a chat at some point.

Unfortunately, Bucky doesn’t call. Not even once.

It leaves Steve feeling proud but mostly disappointed. And he hates that. He knows he has to fix his attitude, but he doesn’t know how. He likes having Bucky depend on him and he likes taking care of Bucky. He knows it’s wrong, but he’s regretting bringing Bucky to Virginia. Stupid Sam and his stupid ideas.

Not wanting Alisha to get mad at him again, Steve waits until it’s about an hour before Bucky’s supposed to get up before getting out of bed and hurrying over to Bucky’s room.

Like the previous morning, Bucky’s still lying in bed when Steve comes in and grins happily. “Hey, Stevie. I slept real good. I missed you a little bit, but then I looked at your picture and I reminded myself that I’d see you in the morning. It worked real well.”

Steve struggles to paste a happy smile on his face. “That’s great! I’m proud of you.”

Sitting up, Bucky reaches out for Steve, who hurries to the bed and pulls Bucky into a tight hug. He’s probably squeezing Bucky too tight, but he doesn’t care. In a few hours, he’ll have to leave Bucky and he won’t be allowed back until Tuesday.

And the worst part is that he can’t whine about it. He can’t tell Bucky how much he’ll miss him and how hard it’ll be to not see him every day. Because if he does that, Bucky will get upset and Bucky’s been so brave and he’s worked so hard already and Steve refuses to destroy any of that.

Steve keeps the atmosphere light, asking Bucky how his night had gone and cuddling for a while longer until Bucky looks at his watch.

“Oh, I should start my morning routine.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Bucky sits up and grins down at him. “You gonna do it with me?”

Steve smiles. “Sure.”

“I’ll keep—I’ll keep a careful eye on you so you—so you don’t miss any steps. Come on, let’s go!”

Bucky climbs out of bed, puts on his helmet and heads to the bathroom, chattering about how they’ll have to follow the ‘morning’ whiteboard on the bathroom mirror and then they’ll have to go to the closet and follow the steps to get dressed.

* * *

Wen shows up when they’re getting dressed and he’s thrilled that Bucky took the initiative to start his morning routine by himself and that he’d gotten through it so easily. They eat breakfast in the dining hall and Bucky insists on carrying all three of their trays to the area where the empty trays are stacked.

Steve should feel happy about it, but he just feels sad that it’s almost time to say goodbye to Bucky. Unfortunately, he can’t dissolve into a puddle of tears like he wants to.

Alisha finds them as Bucky and Wen are discussing today’s schedule and sits next to Steve, asking him how his night had gone. Steve tries to keep his tone friendly, but Alisha keeps looking at it as if she knows he’s having a hard time.

Thankfully, Bucky interrupts Steve’s awkward attempts at conversation. “Look, Steve! I’ve already got three things marked off! I did ‘morning bathroom routine’ and ‘morning dressing routine’ and now I did ‘breakfast’!”

“That’s great, pal! You’re doing really good.”

Alisha smiles at Bucky. “Excellent work, Bucky. You should be proud of yourself. Now, it’s time for you to go see Dr. Joshua, and Steve will be off. Bucky, do you remember where Steve is going?”

Bucky’s smile has faded somewhat and he stares at Steve sadly. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Steve has to—has to go to DC to get more clothes for me.”

“That’s right. And when are you gonna see Steve again?”

“On—on Tuesday,” Bucky says sadly. Steve prepares himself for a temper tantrum, but to his surprise, Bucky’s sad frown is quickly replaced by a grin. “But we’re gonna talk on the phone tonight, right?” He’s eagerly looking at Steve.

Steve has no trouble mirroring Bucky’s grin because he’s looking forward to the phone call just as much as Bucky is. “Yeah, we will.”

“It’s on your schedule, Bucky,” Wen points out, tapping a finger on Bucky’s schedule.

Looking down at the paper, Bucky lets out a delighted laugh. “There it is! It’s right after ‘evening dressing routine’. You see, Stevie? It says ‘phone call with Steve’. Oh, and look what they put on there for me!”

Bucky holds up the schedule and to his delight, Steve notices that somebody had put smiley face stickers next to the word ‘phone’. No other activity got smiley face stickers and that makes Steve feel smug. “I see it. That’s fantastic!”

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna work real hard and get through all my tasks so I can tell you lots of neat things when we talk.”

Smiling, Steve gives Bucky a thumbs up. “That’s a great idea, buddy.”

Bucky keeps talking about his schedule and other things and Steve keeps the mood light until Wen gently reminds Bucky to check his watch, which prompts Bucky to realize he has to leave for his appointment with Dr. Joshua.

Standing up, Bucky smiles at Steve. “Gimme a big—a big hug, Rogers.” Bucky’s smile gets a bit strained. “It’s gotta last me until—until Tuesday.”

This is another time where Steve has to put his own feelings aside. If he makes too big of a fuss then Bucky will get upset.

Stepping around the table, Steve hugs Bucky hard, gripping the back of his sweater and feeling the plastic helmet against the side of his head. “You’ll be fine. We’re gonna chat in a couple of hours.”

“I’ll miss you,” Bucky mumbles into Steve’s shoulder, clinging to him.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Steve reminds himself to follow the plan. “I’ll miss you too. But we’ll talk in a couple of hours and you’re gonna be so busy that time’s gonna fly. Tuesday will be here before you know it.”

Bucky draws in a shaky breath. Pulling back from him, Steve presses his forehead against the face shield and smiles at him while he rubs Bucky’s sides. “You can do this, I know you can. We’ll miss each other, but it’s real important that you learn how to do all the things these wonderful people are gonna teach you, right? And you gotta pay careful attention cause I wanna hear every single detail when we talk on the phone.”

“You’ll—you’ll read me a story and sing me the star song?”

“Of course! And tomorrow, you can call me as soon as you wake up and we’ll chat before you start your morning routine.”

Bucky appears to think that over for a while. Then his gaze drops to the schedule on the table. “I’m gonna be late for Dr. Joshua.”

Releasing Bucky, Steve gives him an encouraging smile. “You better get going then.”

With a shaky smile, Bucky steps back and picks up his schedule. “Okay, I’m ready to go see Dr. Joshua.”

Wen smiles and stands up from the table. “Great! Let’s go.”

Steve stays where he is and watches Bucky and Wen walk away from the table. When they get to the door, Bucky stops and turns back to Steve.

A frown is visible from behind the face shield and Steve puts a big smile on his face and gives him a thumbs up.

Bucky nods and gives him a wave before he turns back to the door.

Once Bucky’s disappeared, it feels like Steve’s heart has left too. Taking a deep breath, he struggles not to cry.

Alisha’s sitting at the table, looking up at him. “How do you feel?”

“I hate this. I hate everything about this…but I know why I gotta stick to the plan.”

She smiles. “That’s all we ask. And if you want to know more about those resources I mentioned, just give me a call.”

“I’ll let you know.”

Steve knows he won’t. The only thing he needs is Bucky and he’ll get him in six months. In fact, he’ll get a Bucky who’s confident and happy and will want to be around Steve every single day not because he can’t take care of himself but because he just loves Steve’s company.

He just has to make it through these six months.


	18. Chapter 18

That’s when Steve’s new life starts. It’s a temporary life, one he has to live for six months, but that’s nothing.

He catches a taxi back to DC, packs up everything that he’d left in his hotel room and goes to the mall to buy a bunch of new clothes for Bucky. Then he catches a taxi right back to Virginia. As he’d predicted, when he arrives at the facility with Bucky’s clothes, the receptionist asks him to leave everything with her and Steve gets back into his taxi to go to the quiet town he hates.

He checks himself into the motel again and smiles his way through the dozen questions that the husband and wife motel owners ask him until he can finally escape to his room.

Finding himself constantly checking his phone to see what time it is, he keeps himself busy by finding new stories to read to Bucky and watches TV. He goes to the nearby diner for lunch and again for dinner and spends the rest of the day in his room. His phone is always in his pocket or right next to him, just in case Bucky gets upset during the day and needs to call him.

There aren’t any panicked phone calls from Bucky during the day—which leaves Steve feeling a bit disappointed and also guilty for feeling disappointed—but he’ll definitely get to hear Bucky’s voice today, no matter what.

By the time Bucky calls for their evening chat, Steve’s already showered and changed into his pajamas and he’s lying in bed with the e-reader and his phone.

“Hi, Stevie!”

A smile lights up Steve’s face for the first time in hours and relaxes. “Hey, Buck. Did you get your new clothes?”

“Yeah, thanks. They’re real nice. Wen helped me put them in my closet in all the right spots.”

“That’s great! So how was your day? Any seizures?”

Bucky sighs. “Yeah, but only three of ‘em. Dr. Joshua seems happy with the new medication, so we have to—have to wait and see. Where are you?”

“I’m in town, staying at a motel.”

“Oh. Is your room nice?”

Steve couldn’t care less what his room looks like. “Yeah, it’s perfect. I don’t got big windows like you do. Did you sit in your chair today?”

“Uh huh. I love sitting there, looking outside. It’s even better now cause I can see your picture on the other chair. I talk to it all the time.”

Steve’s heart clenches. Six months. He just has to wait six months, then he can talk to Bucky twenty-four hours a day if that’s what they both want. “Did you just look outside or did you go for a walk with Wen?”

“Oh, I went for two walks today. One time, we just did a normal walk, but the other time, we played a game. It’s called—it’s called—something with ‘spy’. I looked at something and described it to Wen and he had to—he had to guess what I was looking at. I forgot the name.” Bucky sighs sadly. “I shoulda asked Wen to write it down. I’ll ask him to write down important stuff like that so I don’t forget it. Sorry.”

“That’s alright. You can ask Wen to write it down for you and tell me tomorrow. What else was on your schedule for today?”

They talk for a while with Bucky telling Steve all about his day. When they’re finished catching up, Steve reads Bucky the next few chapters of the story they’re working on and as always, he finishes up by singing the star song.

It’s a happy end to a boring day, but Steve doesn’t complain. He’s following the plan and all of this will be over in six months. That’s all that matters.

* * *

The days drag by very, very slowly. Steve forces himself to go out for a run a few times a day and he does spend a little time exploring the town, but he hates that everybody stares at him and wants to talk to him and ask him a million questions, so he prefers staying in his motel room.

On Monday, Steve’s lying on his bed, watching TV and munching on some chips when his phone gives a chirp. That usually indicates somebody’s sent him a text message. But Bucky doesn’t know how to send texts and Steve doesn’t think the phone in Bucky’s room can send texts anyway. Besides, he still has—he glances at the clock hanging on the wall—four hours and thirty-seven minutes until Bucky calls him so he has no idea who could be texting him.

Picking up his phone, Steve sees a message from Sam. Pressing his lips together, Steve feels guilty before he’s even opened the message.

Over the last few days, he’s acknowledged that blaming Sam for suggesting the therapy program for Bucky was stupid. Bucky’s making fantastic progress, he’s happy and none of that would have been possible without Sam’s help. Whether Steve’s happy with the current situation or not is irrelevant. At the end of the day, Steve should be grateful for what Sam did, not irrationally blaming him because Steve’s not happy at the prospect of being bored for the next 180 days.

Well, technically, it’ll be 175 days. Steve’s counting.

Sam’s message is brief but makes Steve feel even more guilty.

_Call me pls. I’m worried about you two. I just wanna know that you’re both okay._

Sighing, Steve clenches his jaw. Great job, Rogers. Sam’s one of his only friends and he’d done so much for both Bucky and Steve, and Steve rewarded that friendship by ignoring him and irrationally blaming him for something stupid. Finding Sam’s contact in his phone, Steve presses the phone to his ear and listens to it ring.

Sam picks up on the second ring. “Steve?”

“Hey. Yeah, it’s me. Before you say anything, I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. I’ve been an idiot but that ain’t your fault. I’m a terrible friend.”

Sam chuckles. “You can buy me lunch to make up for it. Where are you guys?”

“In Virginia. Buck’s at the facility and I’m staying in a motel in town.”

“Oh? How did Bucky take the separation?”

“A lot better than I thought he would. Things were really tough at first, but the staff are great.”

Sam and him chat for a while and Steve catches him up on everything. Well, he doesn’t tell Sam about his irrational jealousy when he thinks about the staff helping Bucky with things, nor does he tell him how useless he feels. He’s following the plan and that’s what’s important.

* * *

Tuesday finally arrives and Steve anxiously counts the minutes until he can jump into a taxi and go to the facility for his ‘family day’ with Bucky. Alisha had emailed him last night and told him when he should be there and that he’ll get to spend a lot of time with Bucky, but she would also like him to attend a therapy session together with Bucky and Dr. Melanie Stewart, Bucky’s therapist. They’ll be discussing Bucky’s therapy plans. Steve will also have a private meeting with Alisha to discuss Bucky’s progress, but he’ll get to spend a big part of the day with Bucky. Sadly, he’ll have to leave before dinner, but it’s better than nothing.

To his pleasant surprise, Bucky is waiting in the lobby for him, wearing his helmet and sitting on one of the chairs. He’s staring through the glass doors until he sees Steve and starts waving.

Steve runs through the doors and he’s barely inside before Bucky’s throwing himself at him and hugging him tight. “I hope you know I ain’t letting you go til it’s time—til it’s time for you to go,” Bucky says, his helmet pressing against Steve’s head.

Chuckling, Steve feels lighter than he has since the last time he saw Bucky and squeezes him tight. “Funny, I had the same plan.”

“Great—great minds think alike.”

When Bucky finally releases him, he doesn’t let Steve go far. He holds onto Steve’s hand and tugs him towards the elevator. “Let’s go up to my room. We got a little—a little while before we gotta come down and—and talk to Dr. Stewart.”

* * *

Seeing Bucky is fantastic, but it’s also bittersweet. Steve finds himself constantly looking at his phone to check the time. The minutes seem to be ticking by way too quickly compared to how slowly they drag when he’s in town and it seems like no time has passed when Steve has to hug Bucky goodbye and go back to his stupid motel room in the stupid town and resume his endless wait for Bucky’s next phone call.

* * *

The days slowly go by. Every night after Steve finishes singing the star song for Bucky and they hang up the phone, he mentally allows himself to tick off another day on the calendar living in his head.

He’s really glad that he’s re-connected with Sam because boredom is his constant companion and talking to Sam makes the time between Bucky’s phone calls go by faster.

At first, Sam keeps their conversations light. He always asks about Bucky’s progress and Steve loves telling Sam about the new steps Bucky has conquered. Sometimes Bucky has rough days where he’s in a bad mood and that usually results in him messing up easy tasks and having even more trouble remembering things during the day. Those evening phone calls usually consist of Bucky not talking much and Steve doing lots of out-loud reading and singing the star song a couple of times, but Bucky always manages to calm down by the end with a promise to put the bad day behind him and start fresh in the morning.

Sam usually asks about Steve too but Steve’s answer is always the same: he’s just patiently waiting for the days to pass until Bucky’s done the program. That’s when Steve usually changes the subject to ask about what Sam’s been doing, because Steve’s boring life isn’t worth any discussion time.

But one day, Sam won’t let him move on so easily. “Steve, I’m worried about you, man.”

Steve chuckles. “Me? Why are you worried about me? If anything, we should be worried about Buck, but he did real well yesterday. I told you he beat Wen playing cards, didn’t I?”

It had been a very simple card game; something with ‘Fish’ in the title. Bucky and Wen had played it before and Bucky had been overjoyed when he’d told Steve that he’d gotten 17 pairs compared to Wen’s 9 pairs. Bucky had asked Wen to write down the results of the game on his schedule so he could tell Steve the exact numbers during their phone call.

“Yeah, you did. I’m really happy for Bucky and I’m thrilled he’s doing so well, but I’m still worried about you.”

Steve sighs. “Look, I know my life ain’t that exciting right now, but if Buck needs me to stay in this stupid town for a couple of months, then I’ll do that.”

“ _Does_ he need you to stay there?”

Shifting on the bed, Steve doesn’t like the direction of this conversation. “Well…I wanna be close by in case Buck needs me.”

“But that’s the point. His care team has proven that they can take care of him, haven’t they?”

“Well, yeah. But still, I wanna be here. Just in case.”

“In case of what? How many times have the staff called you to help with a problem they couldn’t fix?”

Steve blinks. The answer to that is ‘none’. That’s when he starts feeling useless again and he doesn’t like that. “Look, they’ve known Buck for two weeks and I’ve known him my whole life. We have no idea if something’s gonna happen tomorrow or next week that’ll really upset him and he’ll want me to come help him.”

Sam sighs softly. “Even if Bucky wants you to come help him, the staff will do everything possible to discourage him from calling you. That’s the whole point. They want him to learn how to solve his own problems without running to you. And they’ve done a good job so far, haven’t they? Even when Bucky has bad days, he hasn’t called you during the day, has he? He’s waited until his scheduled phone time to call you.”

That’s true, but Steve doesn’t tell Sam that.

Taking advantage of Steve’s silence, Sam keeps trying to hammer his painful point home. “Trust me, if Bucky gets really upset and if the program isn’t working for him, the staff will call you. But it hasn’t happened so far and I think you know it probably won’t. They know what they’re doing. You just have to trust them.”

“I do trust them,” Steve mumbles. “I wouldn’t have left Buck with them if I didn’t.”

“Okay, that’s good. Prove it by coming back to DC.”

Steve scoffs. DC is an hour and a half away from the center. “I can’t be that far away. That’s stupid.”

“Why’s it stupid? Assuming Bucky does go downhill and Alisha calls you and asks you to pick Bucky up, you driving there from DC is only an hour and fifteen minutes longer. Bucky can wait that long. Besides, there’s no reason to think that Bucky will change his mind. He’s doing really well and you know he’s loving the progress he’s making.”

It’s on the tip of Steve’s tongue to say that really, it doesn’t matter whether he’s in Virginia or DC. He’d be doing the same thing no matter where he is: living in a hotel room and waiting for Bucky’s phone calls.

But then it occurs to him that he’s been so focused on the six month duration of the program that he hasn’t given any thought to what he and Bucky will do after that. Bucky can’t come back to DC and live in a hotel room with Steve. That’s stupid. Bucky will need a nice place to come home to.

As soon as the idea occurs to him, Steve gets excited. He can work on making Bucky a home! That’ll give him something to do during those endless hours between Bucky’s phone calls. In addition, Steve thinks he should also get a new motorcycle for himself. If he’s going to be going back and forth between DC and Virginia twice a week for the next few months, it’ll be cheaper if he has his own motorcycle rather than always paying for a taxi.

But wait…Bucky probably wouldn’t enjoy riding on a motorcycle. The wind and noise would be too much for him. So Steve will get a car. A nice, big car where Bucky can sit or lie down in the backseat while Steve drives them wherever Bucky wants to go.

Perfect! He can get out of this quiet, stupid town that he hates and he can focus on his and Bucky’s futures. “Sam, you’re gonna like this.”

“Uh huh…?”

“I’m gonna come back to DC and I’m gonna look for an apartment and a car.”

* * *

Being back in the hustle and bustle of DC is a thousand times better than the small town he’d left behind and Steve is so eager to start searching for an apartment that he takes his laptop with him when he meets up with Sam for coffee.

Wearing his hood, baseball cap and sunglasses, it’s wonderful to walk down the street and not have anybody staring at him. Seeing Sam again is also fantastic and Sam is fully supportive of Steve’s search for an apartment. He asks Steve if he’d already talked to Bucky about them living together when he’s done the program, but Steve brushes off those ridiculous concerns. Where else would Bucky want to live? Bucky Barnes has never wanted to live anywhere except with Steve Rogers. Even growing up, Bucky had spent most of his time at the Rogers’ apartment.

Steve throws himself into buying a car and finding an apartment, but he keeps his projects a secret from Bucky. He wants to keep them a surprise until he’s accomplished both of his tasks.

Getting a car is straight forward and Sam insists on going with him because Steve knows very little about car shopping. With Sam’s help, Steve ends the day in possession of a nice car that’ll be perfect for driving back and forth to the center and for driving Bucky wherever he wants to go.

Finding an apartment takes a bit longer because Steve’s very picky and Sam argues a lot about Steve not telling Bucky about the apartment. Steve finally snaps at him that he’ll find an apartment on his own and he doesn’t need Sam’s help if he’s going to keep saying stupid things that are irrelevant. Sam gives him one of those looks that says he’s not happy with what Steve’s doing—he’d given Steve that look a lot when they’d been searching for Bucky—but he finally agrees to go along with Steve’s plan.

That just leaves Steve’s pickiness as an obstacle, but that’s not negotiable. The place needs to have lots of windows so Bucky can look outside and it can’t face the street because that’s too noisy for Bucky. It needs to be on the ground floor so Bucky doesn’t have to deal with stairs or elevators in case they can’t get his seizures under control. And the bathroom needs to be big so they have room for Bucky’s special chair.

Sam comes with him to see apartments and Steve finally finds one two weeks after having returned to DC. It’s beautiful and Bucky will love it. Luckily, the place comes furnished so Steve doesn’t have to worry about finding furniture and he can focus on setting everything up so it’s perfect for Bucky. When he’s finally ready, he decides it’s time to tell Bucky.

When his phone rings for his evening chat with Bucky, Steve’s sitting in one of the two big armchairs he’s put right by the large window in the living room and he puts his socked feet up on Bucky’s future-chair as he answers his phone. “Hey, Buck.”

“Hey! You won’t believe what we had for desert today after dinner.”

Steve notices Bucky’s talking a little slower, which is something new he’s been trying. He’s started working with a speech therapist for his stutter a few days ago and Bucky says he’s learned that if he talks a bit slower to allow his brain to stay in sync with his mouth, he won’t have so much trouble with his words. If he gets upset, then he still has difficulty stringing coherent sentences together, but he’s made a lot of progress with his normal speech.

“Yeah? What was for desert?”

“I got it written down…hang on. Oh, there it is! It’s in my notebook. The desert was called…Jello!”

Steve smiles. He’s tried Jello before a few times but he’d never enjoyed the weird texture. “What did you think about it?”

“It tasted weird. Kinda slimy and mushy? But it was sweet, so I liked it.”

Chuckling, Steve leans back in his armchair and looks around the beautiful apartment that he’ll soon be telling Bucky about. “Of course you did. What—”

“Oh! I almost forgot—forgot—shit, gotta slow—slow—slow down.” Bucky takes a deep breath, waits a few seconds and tries again, speaking slower. “I almost forgot to tell you! I practiced writing today.”

Steve’s eyebrows fly up. “Really? All by yourself?”

“Uh huh. You remember I’ve been doing those hand and arm exercises over the last few days?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, today I learned it was to help my hand get strong again so I can write! I wrote out the whole alphabet by myself. It took forever and my hand kinda hurts, but I did it.”

Steve grins. “I’m so proud of you! You shoulda asked Wen to take a picture of it for me.”

“Oh, not yet. My writing’s real bad right now. It’s real—real shaky. I wanna get better at it first and when it’s good, then I’ll ask Wen to take a picture. But guess who wrote down ‘Jello’ in their own notepad today?” Bucky’s sounds very proud.

Chuckling softly, Steve wants to hop into his car and drive to Virginia right now just so he can give Bucky a big hug and kiss. “Let me guess…Wen?”

Bucky laughs. “Jerk. I ain’t gonna let you guess nothing ever again.”

“So you wrote ‘Jello’ all by yourself?”

“Uh huh! Wen had to tell me how to spell it, but I wrote it down cause I wanted to tell you about it. I really like the notebook. I can write things down so I don’t forget anything.”

“That’s fantastic! I’m so proud of you.”

Steve knows Bucky’s grinning as much as he is. “I’m proud of me too. And you hear I’m barely stuttering?”

“Oh, absolutely!” Steve’s slowed his own speech down too, to match Bucky’s pace. He hasn’t done it consciously, but he likes it. He doesn’t want to risk Bucky feeling self-conscious about his slower speech.

“So are we starting ‘Charlotte’s Web’ today?” Bucky asks.

They’d gradually increased the level of difficulty of their night-time story reading. Steve always pre-reads the books to make sure they plots aren’t too complex but he’s slowly been choosing books that are for older children. So far, Bucky always manages to keep up and Steve gives him a little summary of the previous chapters before they start. “Yeah, in a bit. But I wanted to tell you something exciting first.”

“Oh?”

Steve grins. “So I’ve been real busy since I came back to DC but I haven’t told you what I’ve been doing.”

“Hurry up and tell—and tell me! Shit. Hurry. Up. And. Tell. Me. Please.”

“First, I bought myself a car!”

“Really? Oh, that’s exciting! What color is it?”

“It’s dark green. It’s got a big backseat so if you don’t wanna sit in the front, you can sit in the back or even lie down.”

Bucky’s quiet for a second. “When—when do I have to be—to be in the car? Are we—are we going somewhere? Nobody—nobody told me. Nobody. Told me.”

Steve frowns. “No, no, not now. It’s for later. Once you’re finished the program and we’re back here in DC together, then we can use the car when we go shopping or if we wanna drive somewhere fun.”

“I—I—I’m in Virginia.”

The whole conversation isn’t going the way Steve thought it would go. He has no idea why Bucky’s suddenly so confused and his stuttering is getting worse by the second. “That’s right, Buck. You’re in Virginia now, but once you’re done the program, you’re gonna come live in DC with me.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything.

After a bit of silence, Steve decides to press on with the even better news. “And guess what? I got us an apartment too! It’s in a real nice neighborhood, it’s quiet and there’s a park nearby. The street ain’t too busy and the apartment’s got real nice windows. You like the windows in your room, don’t you?”

“I—I—I like my windows. I can—I can see out. There’s the tree. I see the—I see the tree—it’s—the tree, it—.”

Steve is getting more confused by the second. “What’s wrong? Trust me, the apartment’s real nice. You’re gonna love it. You got your own bedroom so we can either share one room or we can sleep separate if we want to and the bathroom’s big enough for your chair and—”

“I—it’s—I got—I don’t—I see the tree. The tree’s outside my—my window. It’s—that’s my tree. I need that tree here!” Bucky’s voice gradually gets louder and eventually, he’s yelling and Steve has no idea why he’s upset and he doesn’t understand what he’s trying to say.

“Buck, if you don’t like this apartment, I can find us another one. I—”

“It’s—that’s for—that’s for later! This tree is my—it’s my tree! I sit here but when I—not—not now! I can’t—that’s for—it’s for—” Abruptly, Bucky stops talking and Steve hears him struggling to breathe.

He’s about to remind Bucky to do his counting exercise when he hears Bucky whispering numbers to himself, trying to calm himself down.

Steve’s heart is aching and he’s confused and close to tears. He thought Bucky would be excited about the car and the apartment! He had no idea Bucky would take things so badly. But the question is: why? Why is Bucky so upset over this?

Long minutes go by, during which Bucky counts backwards and forwards and Steve clenches his jaw and blinks back tears.

Finally, Bucky takes a deep breath. “Okay. Let me try. Using my. Words. I’m gonna. Go. Slow. Okay?”

“Yeah. Take your time,” Steve whispers, his voice shaking.

“I’m not. Supposed to. Worry about the future. Not. Not now. Alisha says. That’s important. She says I gotta. Worry about. The next ten minutes. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Not when the program. Is. Done. Just the next. Ten minutes. She says. I need to take. Ten minutes at. At a time. Otherwise. It’s too much stress. For me. I get overwhelmed.”

That makes sense. Steve feels terrible because he should have anticipated this. Getting the new car and the new apartment had been exciting for him because he didn’t have much else to do during the day. But Bucky has lots of things he has to work on during the day and the last thing he needs to worry about is what’s going to happen when he’s finished with the program. He needs to focus on taking things one day at a time, or even ten minutes at a time.

As usual, Alisha’s demonstrating that she’s smarter than Steve. “I’m sorry. I just got excited and I didn’t realize this wasn’t the right time for any of that. I’m sorry for stressing you out.”

“That’s. That’s okay. We can still talk about if you wanna.”

“Nah. We’ll talk about it when Alisha says it’s time for you to worry about the future, okay?” Steve’s sure they’ll have many meetings to discuss what will happen once Bucky’s done the program. Until then, Steve will continue making the apartment as wonderful as possible but he’ll keep the progress to himself. He’ll have plenty of time to tell Bucky about the apartment when he’s living here.

“Okay, thanks.”

“You want me to sing you the star song a couple of times or you wanna do a story?”

“I wanna do story first, but not the new one. I forgot the name of the new one. Anyway, I want the Johnny Town-Mouse story, please.”

Smiling, Steve grabs his e-reader from the small table beside his armchair and taps through the files to find the mouse story. “You got it.”

While Steve’s searching for it, he hears some rustling as Bucky gets comfortable. “I love that story,” Bucky mumbles.

Steve grins and flips to the first page. “Me too.”

“You—you’re like Johnny Town-Mouse, living in the city.”

Chuckling, Steve nods. “Yup. And you’re Timmy Willie, the country mouse.”

“Can you—can you change the names in the story so they’re Stevie and Bucky?”

“Sure!” Clearing his throat, Steve begins to read. “Stevie Town-Mouse was born in a cupboard. Bucky Country-Mouse was born in a garden. Bucky Country-Mouse was a little country mouse who went to town by mistake in a hamper…”

Thankfully, the story seems to calm Bucky down. By the time Steve’s done, Bucky’s completely relaxed and isn’t stuttering.

“Can you sing me the star song?” Bucky mumbles once Steve’s finished the story.

“Of course. You ready?”

“Uh huh.”

Taking a breath, Steve softly starts to sing the familiar words. Bucky randomly chimes in on a few verses, as if he’s mouthing along the words and sometimes sings a couple of them without being aware of it.

“…As your bright and tiny spark, lights the traveller in the dark, though I know not what you are, twinkle, twinkle, little star.”

Bucky’s breathing softly when Steve finishes the song and lets his voice softly fade out.

“Good night, Buck. I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you more,” Bucky mumbles back. “Sleep good.”

“You too.”

After hanging up, Steve mentally congratulates both of them on having recovered from that near disaster so well. Bucky had realized he’d gotten upset and had started counting all by himself, and Steve had quickly understood the problem and had worked hard to help Bucky calm down.

Overall, the night has ended on a high note and Steve goes to bed feeling very excited about their future.


	19. Chapter 19

A month later, Bucky opens their evening phone call with a sentence Steve isn’t expecting. “They want me to start using the stupid arm.”

Steve frowns as he’s relaxing against his pillows in bed. He’d known the staff would start pushing Bucky to use his prosthetic arm but he hadn’t known they’d do it so abruptly. It fills him resentment that they hadn’t bothered informing Steve that they’d bring up this big topic today. He’d been at the center just two days ago for a visiting day and Alisha hadn’t mentioned anything about it. The metal arm is a difficult subject for Bucky, and Steve had always been sure that Alisha would ask Steve to bring it up first and Steve would be left trying to comfort a hysterical Bucky. In his fantasies, that would lead to Bucky begging Steve to come to Virginia and pick him up because he didn’t want to stay with the mean people who were pressuring him about using his arm.

As it turns out, Steve hadn’t been given a role in the situation and Bucky doesn’t sound hysterical. Again, Steve hates himself for being disappointed about any of this.

“Steve? You listening?”

It occurs to Steve that he’s being an idiot. Here he is; grumpy that he hadn’t been given the chance to comfort Bucky when the subject of his metal arm had first come up and he’s ignoring Bucky while he’s on the phone with him. “Sorry, yeah. How—when did this happen?”

Bucky sighs. He doesn’t sound upset, just a bit annoyed. “I had a session with Dr. Stewart today and she brought it up out of the blue.”

“What did she say?”

“At first, I didn’t wanna talk about it. But you know her. She was being so nice and funny and she kept pushing. I got mad but then I felt bad cause she’s so nice.”

Steve frowns. “You don’t gotta use your arm if you don’t wanna, Buck. She can’t force you.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Steve knows he shouldn’t have said them. The doctors have done tests on Bucky’s arm and there’s no physical reason he can’t use it. The staff had been clear that Bucky’s quality of life would be much better if he was using his prosthetic arm properly and Steve’s always known this was part of the plan. And yet here Steve is—his desire to keep Bucky happy making him say stupid things that aren’t good for Bucky’s future.

A small voice in his head—which sounds like Alisha—points out that this is probably the reason Steve wasn’t told about this entire situation and why he’s being kept out of it.

“I know I don’t gotta, but Dr. Stewart wanted me to—to—to tell her—shit, I’ll gotta talk slower. She wanted me to tell her why I didn’t wanna use it. I knew I couldn’t fool her cause they did all those tests and she knows it don’t hurt me and it works fine. She just knows I don’t like it.”

That urge to reassure Bucky that he never has to use his arm is so strong, but Steve takes a breath and reminds himself what his role is. Since Bucky isn’t too upset, Dr. Stewart and him must have reached some kind of consensus.

“Did you tell her why you don’t like it?” Steve’s never asked Bucky about it because he hadn’t wanted to upset him. Again, that was probably a mistake.

“Yeah. I didn’t really wanna, but she convinced me. You wanna know too?”

“Yes, please. But only if you wanna tell me.”

Bucky sighs softly. “Hydra forced this arm on me. I don’t remember any of it, but I think—I think they didn’t take my arm away, but they gave me this one. They gave it to me cause it’s a weapon. To hurt people. To—to damage things. I’ve done all sorts of bad things with this arm. I don’t remember details, but when—when I move it, I remember. I feel—sometimes I feel this urge to smash things or hurt people with it.”

Steve remembers Bucky’s instinctual violent reactions when he’d first found him living on the streets. His reactions must have been pure muscle memory—actions that had been drilled into him through force. He wants to comfort Bucky and once again, it’s on the tip of his tongue to tell Bucky he never has to use the arm. In fact, Steve starts contemplating suggesting having the arm removed if it’s causing Bucky so much distress.

But Bucky doesn’t sound very distressed. He’s more subdued than he normally is, but he doesn’t sound upset. Making stupid suggestions is the last thing Steve should be doing, especially because this whole thing is reminding him that he’s not a professional at any of this and it’s in Bucky’s best interest to let the professionals do their job. He’s just supposed to be the supportive voice on the other end of the phone. “What did Dr. Stewart say?”

Bucky’s quiet for a moment.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna. You’ve had a big day.”

“No, it ain’t that. I just wanna remember what she said and get the words lined up right. This is real important.”

“Okay, take your time.”

A few minutes of silence go by. Eventually, Bucky starts to speak. “She said Hydra gave me this arm to use as a weapon. By not using it at all, I’m letting Hydra win. She said the arm ain’t really a weapon. It’s just an arm. Hydra forced me to use it for violence, but I can use it for good things. Like help me get dressed and pick things up. She said I can—I can turn the…chairs? Something about turning furniture? I don’t remember.”

“Turn the tables on Hydra?” Steve asks quietly.

“Oh, yeah! Turn the tables. That’s what she said. I really like that.”

Steve smiles cautiously. “Yeah?”

“Uh huh. It’s so stupid not having my left arm. But I do have a left arm, don’t I? I don’t like it but Dr. Stewart says it ain’t Hydra’s arm no more. It’s my arm. I can use it to do what I want. That made me feel real good. I’m—I’m running away with Hydra’s technology and using it for what I want.”

Steve can hear the smirk in Bucky’s voice and the anxiety that’s been clutching his heart gradually eases. Dr. Stewart is an amazing person.

“I’m proud of you, Buck. I know it must have been hard to talk to Dr. Stewart about all of this but you’ve always been a smart fella. You’re looking at things in such a good way. She’s absolutely right: that’s your arm and you get to decide what to use it for. Who cares if Hydra wanted you to use it for a weapon? You can use it to darn socks and pet dogs.”

Bucky laughs softly. “That’ll show ‘em, won’t it? If I’m using the arm for normal things. I like that. I really like that.”

They settle into silence for a few moments until Bucky speaks up again. “Oh! She also said she’s not worried about my urge to use the arm for bad things. She says the arm has memory? I don’t remember the exact words.”

“Muscle memory?”

“That’s it! Yeah. The muscle memory. It’s funny cause the arm don’t got no muscles.”

Steve laughs.

“Quit with your laughing, punk. This is serious business.”

But Steve can hear Bucky’s grin and he keeps laughing at him. “You want me to stop laughing? Then stop saying funny stuff.”

“That’s like asking me to stop breathing. Ain’t gonna happen. What was I talking about? I forgot.”

Steve can’t stop smiling. “Your arm’s muscle memory.”

“Oh, right. She says the memory can be re-trained. Or undone. Something. I can’t remember her exact words. She says if I do good things with the arm then it’ll get used to doing good things. It won’t wanna hurt people no more. I need to work hard.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Lots and lots of physical therapy. Wen says I’m starting tomorrow. It’ll be hard but Wen promised I can go slow.”

Pride glows in Steve’s chest. “I know you can do it. I’m proud of you for being so brave about this whole thing and I know you’ll do great.”

“I hope so,” Bucky says and Steve knows he’s got that shy half-smile on his face. “I can’t wait to use two utensils at the same time. And be able to wash my right arm properly! Putting on a shirt and sweater’s gonna be so much easier! It’ll be hard, but I know I can do it. I have a good team. And I have you.”

Smiling, Steve chuckles softly. “Of course you do.”

“Speaking of you, you gonna reward my hard brain work today by starting Charlotte’s Web?”

“You bet, pal.” Turning on the e-reader on his lap, Steve makes himself comfortable. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

“Me and my two arms are ready.”

Then story time has to wait for a few minutes while Steve laughs again.

* * *

Over the next three months, not much changes in Steve’s life but that’s to be expected. He spends his days searching for good stories to read to Bucky, making their apartment as comfortable as possible, counting down the hours until his phone calls with Bucky and twice a week, he drives to Virginia to spend a wonderful half-day with Bucky. His life is routine and not too exciting.

But also as expected, lots of things change in Bucky’s life.

Learning to use his prosthetic arm comes with a steep learning curve. The physical therapy is intense and the first few days are the only time Bucky calls Steve randomly throughout the day, frustrated and grumpy from the exercises and complaining about his physical therapist and the stupid exercises he’s making Bucky do. The muscles in his back are sore from using the arm again after not having used it for so long and it takes a lot of concentration for Bucky to do even simple tasks with it.

Steve fulfills his role as a member of Team Bucky and makes sympathetic noises and agrees that Bucky’s physical therapist is obviously a sadistic twit, but once Bucky’s calmed down, Steve reminds him that the exercises will help him in the long run and that Steve’s very proud of him.

There’s one morning where Steve’s phone pings with a message about half an hour after he’d gotten off the phone with Bucky from their morning chat. When he opens the message, Steve’s thrilled to see Wen has sent him a video of Bucky pulling on a shirt during his morning dressing routine…and using his metal arm to help him.

Bucky’s smiling in the video and he keeps glancing at the camera as he uses both hands to slide the shirt over his helmet and slowly sticks one arm, then the other through the arm holes.

“What do you think of that, huh?” Bucky yells towards the camera with a huge grin, probably thinking Steve will have trouble hearing him over the video.

Steve can’t stop smiling as he watches Bucky carefully pulling down the hem of the shirt, pinching the material between his metal fingers and tugging it into place. To finish off, he holds out both arms and spins around.

“Ta da! Did you see that? I did it!”

“You’re amazing, Buck!” When Steve remembers that Bucky can’t hear him, he texts a long string of smiley faces to Wen’s phone and he receives a reply a few moments later from Wen.

_Bucky loved the smiley faces and he’s very happy that you’re proud. Also – I’m not supposed to tell you, but we re-shot the video four times because Bucky wanted to get everything perfect._

Steve laughs and texts back to tell Wen that they’re both wonderful.

When Bucky sees the immediate benefits to using his metal arm, his progress really takes off. Steve gets several new videos every week:

Bucky brushing his teeth with his metal arm.

Bucky using a fork and knife to eat a steak; the fork clutched in his metal hand.

Bucky doing push-ups.

Bucky in the kitchen-learning room, cooking scrambled eggs in a frying pan.

In every single video, Bucky’s glowing and smiling. He’ll often pause in the middle just to look at the camera and call out Steve’s name, as if he wants to make sure Steve’s still watching.

As if Steve could possibly look anywhere else. He re-watches the videos dozens of times and he also insists on showing Sam the videos over and over again to show him how amazing Bucky’s doing. Sam’s always polite and he seems genuinely happy with Bucky’s progress, but as the months go by, Sam doesn’t seem so eager to watch the videos and he keeps trying to change the subject to ask Steve what he’s going to do that day and that’s a stupid question because Sam knows the answer to that, so Steve stops showing him the videos and only calls him a few times a week.

Steve doesn’t need Sam anyway. He’s perfectly content in his and Bucky’s new apartment, ordering food from restaurants, finding new books for him and Bucky to read, watching Bucky’s videos and waiting for his phone calls and visitation days to roll around.

There’s one very special morning when Steve gets a letter in the mail. He usually doesn’t get any mail except bills, but when he sees it’s from the rehab facility, he opens the letter with a confused frown. He’d just gotten off the phone with Bucky ten minutes ago and he can’t think of anything that the center would be mailing him. When he tears it open, he sees a page covered in beautiful cursive writing and he knows without reading a word of it that Bucky has written him a letter.

Steve sits down right in the lobby of the apartment building and reads every word of the letter, marvelling over every single pencil stroke that Bucky had made.

_Dear Stevie,_

_For my writing assignment this week, I have to write a letter so I’m writing a letter to you. It’s a bit silly because I just talked to you on the phone but there’s nobody else I would rather write to. The writing exercises really helped because my hand isn’t tired and I’ve written three lines already! I’m very happy with how good my writing looks. Writing the letters feel familiar and I’m not shaky anymore. I hope you’ll love this letter as much as I do. Well, I don’t have anything else to say but I’ll talk to you soon._

_Lots of love,_

_Your Bucky_

“Aww, Buck,” Steve whispers softly, blinking back tears.

He can see a lot of erase marks in places where Bucky had painstakingly erased and re-written a word multiple times. Steve can see the faded marks from his previous attempts and Bucky had either made a spelling mistake that he’d caught or his letters had been shaky and hadn’t passed Bucky’s strict quality standards.

Clearly, a lot of time and love had gone into writing this letter and the fact that Bucky is happy enough with his progress to have mailed it to Steve is wonderful. Steve goes out and buys a frame and puts the letter right on the bedside table so he can see it every morning. Thinking he should text Wen to say thank you for the letter, he decides to do one better and takes a picture of himself holding up the framed letter and sends that to Wen, asking him to show it to Bucky.

Bucky continues to show progress in every single area of his life.

There’s the memorable evening where Bucky triumphantly starts their phone call by saying he beat Wen playing the Memory game even though they’d used the full set of cards. To make it even better, he’s not stuttering at all when he tells Steve about it, despite how excited he is. He’s speaking slowly, but none of his words get jumbled.

There’s another fantastic morning when Bucky calls Steve ten minutes earlier than he usually does and happily tells Steve he hadn’t had any seizures in 24 hours. Steve is cautiously optimistic about it because he doesn’t want Bucky to be too disappointed if the medication stops working, but to both of their pleasant surprise, the medication continues doing its job.

By the time Bucky’s gone a week without seizures, he’s allowed to take his helmet off and Wen sends Steve a video of Bucky happily walking up the stairs to the second level all by himself and without his helmet on.

At the same time, the staff determine that Bucky’s ready for a new step: socializing with the other patients at the center. Bucky starts attending group therapy sessions and tells Steve about the other patients he befriends—and gleefully compares his progress to other people’s while making Steve promise not to tell anybody because that’s a bit rude.

As Bucky gets faster at doing normal parts of his routine—like dressing himself and meal times—his schedule is changed to add more activities, including playing board games with other patients and learning more complex tasks such as doing laundry.

At the same time, Dr. Stewart’s sessions become more intensive, forcing Bucky to deal with a lot of the physical and emotional trauma he’d endured since leaving for the war. Part of that includes desensitizing and calming exercises where Bucky has to learn how to cope with overwhelming visual and auditory situations. While Steve would happily let Bucky stay in their new apartment twenty-four hours a day if he finds the outside world of DC too overwhelming, that’s not practical and it’s not healthy. At the very least, Bucky will have to deal with some cars on the street and going grocery shopping with Steve and it’s important that he can deal with those situations.

It’s difficult for Bucky, but the combination of being able to do lots of new, interesting things when he’s not in therapy and speaking to Steve twice a day keeps him calm and positive, even on very difficult days. His hard work pays off when he announces one evening that he’ll get to join a group of patients who go into town a few times a week.

Once again, resentment simmers in Steve’s gut. Tomorrow’s Thursday, which means Bucky’s outing will take place one day before Steve’s official visit day. The staff had probably scheduled these things on purpose, but Steve still hates it. If they had moved it over by just one day, Steve could go with Bucky and keep him safe.

Oblivious to Steve’s mood, Bucky keeps talking. “Wen’s gonna come with me and I don’t gotta go into any stores, but we’re gonna go there in a car and I’m gonna walk around.”

Steve forces himself to smile and pushes his resentment aside so he can fulfill the role he has to play. “I think you’ll like it. It’s a lot quieter than a city. There’s barely any cars and there ain’t a lot of people walking around. But you gotta prepare yourself cause it’ll still be more overwhelming than being at the center.”

Bucky sighs softly. “I know. I’m a little scared, but I know I can do it.”

“I know you can do it too. You did real well with the traffic-noise recording yesterday and today, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. I did my counting and it only bothered me a little bit.”

“See? You can do it.”

“And I’m gonna bring my music player, just in case.”

Steve smiles. “And Wen’s gonna be with you, so it’ll be fine. Just listen to him and if things get too overwhelming, he’ll help you.”

It’s so tempting to drive to Virginia a day early so he can spy on Bucky during his outing, but that would be wrong on many levels.

Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “I’m nervous.”

“I know you are, but you’ll be fine. Remember what Dr. Stewart taught you, and Wen will help you do the steps.”

“What if—what if I don’t like it?” Bucky mumbles. It’s the first time he’s stuttered in days.

Steve’s heart clenches and he really wants to promise that he’ll drive to Virginia and go with Bucky, but that wouldn’t help Bucky in the long run. Bucky would cling to Steve and convince Steve to take him back to the center at the first sign of trouble, and Steve would do what Bucky wants.

And that’s not going to help Bucky. Steve knows that town and he knows Bucky will only be dealing with situations that are a little more overwhelming than what he normally deals with at the center. “I want you to try. You don’t wanna live inside your entire life, do you? You like walking outside in the garden, don’t you? This’ll be really similar. You can do it.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything and Steve tries to get him talking again so he stops dwelling on his nerves. “What are you gonna be doing when you’re in town? You gonna eat at the diner?”

“Yeah. I got a list of things I need to find.”

“What kind of things?”

“Hang on, let me go get it.” There’s some shuffling on Bucky’s end of the phone before he’s back. “It’s a list of things in town that I gotta find and check them off. Dr. Stewart says it’ll give me something to focus on so I won’t get so overwhelmed.”

Steve smiles. “That sounds like a great idea. What kind of things are on the list?”

“Jim’s Hardware Store. Sunshine Diner. The traffic light. There’s a big list. Wen says he wants me to try doing five things tomorrow.”

Having spent way too much time in that small town, Steve knows all the places Bucky had listed. “I think you’ll like seeing those things. The diner’s got a nice yellow awning and the traffic light’s right in the center of town by the hardware store. You can check both of those off at the same time.”

“Yeah?” Bucky sounds interested and Steve keeps rambling, encouraging Bucky to read the other things on his list and telling him about them.

“Hey, I got a good idea!” Bucky says, interrupting him in the middle of a sentence.

“Yeah? What?”

“I ain’t just gonna mark things off on my list, but I’m gonna ask Wen to take a picture of me. I can prove to you that I was actually there.”

Steve laughs. “I wasn’t gonna call you a liar, Barnes.”

“I don’t care, I like the idea. Wen can send you the photos and you can see how good I’m doing.”

Steve loves that plan. While he’s not allowed to go to Virginia to join Bucky on his town exploration, he’s sure Alisha won’t mind if Steve accompanies Bucky in a virtual way. Having a set plan does seem to calm Bucky down and once Steve’s read him a story and sung him the star song, Bucky sounds as content as he always does.

The next morning, Steve wishes Bucky luck during their phone call and spends the rest of the day sitting on his arm chair by the window, eagerly waiting for his phone to ping with messages.

Just a few minutes after the scheduled departure time of the van from the center, Steve gets the first picture: Bucky standing next to the van, smiling bravely and the music player headphones hanging out of the top of his sweater.

The van must drive purposefully slowly to town because Wen sends Steve two pictures of Bucky pointing at the scenery outside of the vehicle. Once they get into town, Steve gets a dozen pictures: Bucky standing by the diner and pointing at the yellow awning, Bucky standing by the Oak and Main intersection and pointing up at the traffic light with a big smile, and tons of other photos.

Steve’s thrilled to see Bucky look relaxed and happy during the entire trip. There’s one picture where Bucky’s wearing his ear buds and there’s a little frown on his face, but he’s still smiling. In the next picture, Bucky’s still listening to his music but the frown’s gone.

Steve’s so proud of Bucky and he eagerly waits for Bucky’s evening phone call so he can shower him in praise. After their conversation, it’ll be time to start a new story so Steve spends more time than he usually does picking the perfect story to reward Bucky’s bravery.

When his phone rings, Steve’s ready with his e-reader and a barrel of praise that’s just waiting to be dumped all over Bucky. “You did so good!”

“I know!” Bucky sounds smug. “I thought it was gonna be hard, but it wasn’t bad. There were two big trucks that drove by out of nowhere and I got a bit overwhelmed, but I listened to my music and it was fine. I really liked having the list of things to find. I was looking for the things and wasn’t focusing on other things.”

“I’m real proud of you. How did you like that burger you had at the diner? I’ve had that one and it’s delicious.”

“Oh, yeah! It was the—hang on, let me check my notebook. It was a weird name but I liked it. Not just the burger, I liked the name too. Don’t tell me what it is, I’ll find it…where is it? Oh, there it is. It was the Sh—Shenan—Shenandoah burger. Yeah, it was yummy. And I had a vanilla milkshake too.”

Steve laughs. “You had two milkshakes, you liar. I saw both glasses right by your plate. Next time, you gotta watch what’s in the picture frame before Wen takes the picture.”

Bucky chuckles. “Shit. Betrayed by Wen. Who would’ve thought?”

They keep chatting about Bucky’s great day and time flies by. When Bucky’s done talking, Steve eagerly turns on his e-reader. “So guess what? I found a great story to start tonight. I think you’ll really like it.”

There’s a pause before Bucky answers. “Oh…I’m actually kinda tired.”

Steve’s face falls. “Oh. Well, that makes sense. We can start it tomorrow.”

“Well, we can read a bit if you want to. I don’t mind.”

That gives Steve a weird clench in his stomach. Reading stories together shouldn’t be something Bucky doesn’t ‘mind’ doing. “No, it’s fine. We can start it tomorrow.”

“Okay. Well, I’m gonna get to bed. I can’t believe how tired I am just from one day in town. Alright, have a good night, Stevie. I love you.”

Steve frowns. “But…we didn’t do the star song yet.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry. Okay, let’s do the star song. I’m ready whenever you are.”

Again, Steve feels weird. It takes him a minute to realize why he feels weird about it. Reading stories and singing the star song to Bucky are things Bucky should want Steve to do. They’re one of the few things Steve gives Bucky that he can’t get from anybody else. And Steve doesn’t like the idea that Bucky no longer needs these parts of his routine.

But at the same time, if Bucky doesn’t need Steve to sing him the star song, then that’s fine. Well, it’s not fine. It’s good for Bucky…but not so good for Steve. “We don’t gotta do the star song. If you don’t wanna do it, we don’t gotta do it.” He tries not to sound mopey when he says it, but Bucky must sense his tone.

“No, it’s fine. We can do it. I’m ready, I promise.”

It sounds like Bucky’s trying to humor him. Like Steve’s the one who needs taking care of rather than Bucky. And that doesn’t help the weird feeling Steve has. “I—we don’t—if you’re tired, we can do it tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all. “Yeah, I’m sure.” Steve pastes a smile on his face and hopes his tone will sound cheerier. “You’ve had a big day and if you’re tired, then we can go to bed.”

“Okay, thanks. You’ll be here at noon tomorrow, right?”

“Yup, right after lunch.”

“I’ll be in the lobby to pick you up.”

Steve smiles, feeling a little glimmer of happiness within the dark feelings in his gut. “Okay. You want me to swing by town and grab us some vanilla milkshakes?”

“Oh, that’ll be nice! Yeah, I’d like that.”

Grinning, Steve feels a bit better about the whole thing. “Alright, have a good night.”

“You too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more. Bye.”

After hanging up the phone, Steve is left sitting there, the e-reader on his lap.

The happiness he’d felt when Bucky had seemed enthusiastic about the vanilla milkshakes quickly fades when he remembers that Bucky hadn’t wanted a story and hadn’t wanted to sing the star song together. He wants vanilla milkshakes, but Steve can only bring him those twice a week.

That’s not enough. That’s not nearly enough. And that’s not a good replacement for the story and the star song. He struggles not to cry. He’s being ridiculous, but damn it, this hurts.

It hurts a lot.


	20. Chapter 20

After spending the entire night thinking about it, Steve decides Bucky not needing a story or the star song every night are good things and Steve needs to push his own feelings about it aside. They’re both nearly thirty years old. It’s not good for Bucky to need a bedtime story or a children’s song sung to him every night before he goes to bed. But no matter how rational Steve tries to be, he can’t help the bitter disappointment that makes his heart ache. It’s bad enough that Bucky doesn’t need Steve to help him eat and dress himself and protect him when he walks around outside. But now, Bucky doesn’t even need Steve to sing him the star song or read him stories. Will Bucky soon not want to talk to Steve on the phone twice a day? Maybe not even every day?

Clenching his jaw, Steve feels panic well up inside of him. He _needs_ to talk to Bucky twice a day. He needs that. Otherwise, his endless days will become even more endless. If Bucky doesn’t want to read stories together anymore, then Steve can’t spend several hours a day searching for stories to read. That’s bad enough, but what if it gets even worse?! What on earth is Steve supposed to do with the twenty-four long hours that exist in a day?

He tries to be cheerful when Bucky calls him the next morning, but Bucky must sense that he’s not feeling well. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well.”

Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “Is this about the star song? I told you we could sing it if you wanted to.”

“That’s not—that ain’t why I’m upset.”

“Then what? Talk to me.”

He wants to tell Bucky that Steve wants him to need the star song and a story before bed. He needs Bucky to need those things because they’re a huge part of Steve’s life. But that would be unfair to Bucky. There are so many things he needs to devote time and energy on during the day. The last thing Steve should do is introduce any unnecessary stress into his life. If Bucky’s tired at the end of a long day, he shouldn’t be worrying over staying awake while Steve reads a stupid story or sings a stupid children’s song. This is Steve’s problem, not Bucky’s.

And none of it matters anyway. In two months, Bucky will come home and Steve will have Bucky around twenty-four hours a day. He’ll be able to take care of Bucky like he wants to and devote every minute of every day to him. Steve just has to keep waiting. But first, he needs to reassure Bucky that there’s nothing to worry about. “It was just weird, having our routine changed like that. But it’s fine, I’ll get used to it.”

“We can do the story and song tonight, I promise.”

“No, it’s fine. If you want a story and song, then we can do it. But if we wanna talk about other things and if you’re ready to go to sleep after, then that’s fine too. It just felt a bit weird, but it’s fine.”

Bucky’s quiet for a beat and Steve knows Bucky’s frowning at him through the phone. “You sure? You still sound weird.”

“I’m fine, I promise. Now, get going. You’re gonna be late for breakfast.”

“Okay. Have a good day.”

“You too. I’ll talk to you soon.”

* * *

Within a few days, Steve gets used to not reading Bucky a story every night. Bucky still asks for a story a few times a week but often he’s too tired. They don’t sing the star song unless Bucky’s had a bad day and doesn’t want to talk too much. It still hurts, but Steve focuses on Bucky’s progress and counting down the days until it’s time for Bucky to come home.

About two weeks later, Steve is in Virginia visiting Bucky, because it’s Friday. Along with Tuesdays, Fridays are Steve’s favorite days of the week. He and Bucky are sitting in the arm chairs in his room and Bucky’s thrown his feet up onto Steve’s lap and Steve feels happier than he has since Tuesday.

“So, Rogers?”

“Uh huh?”

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about and I wanna know how you feel about it.”

Steve frowns, intrigued. “You’re being mysterious.”

Bucky grins. “Nah. It’s just something I’ve been thinking about.”

Playing with Bucky’s toes, Steve relaxes in his chair as Bucky tries to grab Steve’s fingers with his toes. “Well, you better get it out quick or we’ll risk that supposed brain of yours overheating. We can’t have that.”

Bucky chuckles and digs his heels into Steve’s stomach, which makes Steve smack his feet in retaliation. Laughing, Bucky gently rubs his toes against Steve’s stomach to apologize. After he’s calmed down, Bucky looks outside at the green trees swaying softly in the breeze. “I wanna go to church on Sunday.”

Steve blinks at him. The words don’t even make sense for a moment because they’ve come right out of left field. “You wanna what?”

Bucky’s still looking out the window and he’s fiddling with the hem of his sweater with both hands. “I think I wanna go to church on Sunday. There’s a group that goes.”

“You…wanna go to church?”

“Yeah.” Bucky finally tears his gaze off the window and he glances at Steve, looking nervous.

Steve should be helping Bucky feel less nervous but he’s still flabbergasted. He’d gladly left church behind when his ma had died. Years later, he’d known he’d made the right decision when he’d watched Bucky fall from the train. Since his ma died, he’s faced one tragedy after another and the thought that some higher power sitting on a cloud had decided to make him go through those things has always seemed too cruel to be true. It’s better to go with the assumption that there’s nobody sitting up there and he and Bucky have just stumbled from one bad situation into another due to random bad luck.

He remembers talking to Bucky about it the first Sunday after they’d buried his ma. Bucky had started to get ready to go to church, like they had done every Sunday of their lives, except ones where Steve was very sick and Bucky was with him in the hospital. Steve had put his foot down and said he wasn’t going.

It hadn’t surprised him when Bucky hadn’t fought him. Bucky hadn’t ever been too sold with the whole God idea. He went to church because it was what people did on Sunday mornings and he’d always get an earful from his own ma and Steve’s ma if he didn’t go. When Steve had decided to part ways with God, Bucky had happily come along.

This is the first time Bucky’s mentioned religion since that conversation where eighteen year old Steve had told Bucky he didn’t want to go to church anymore.

“Steve? What do you think?”

“I…but…why?”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why?” Steve can’t think of why Bucky would want to go to church…unless he feels he has to? A bad feeling creeps into Steve’s gut. “Did somebody here say you gotta go to church? Cause that’s baloney. It don’t matter if everybody else goes, you don’t gotta go just cause they go.”

“No, no, it ain’t like that. Nobody asked me, I asked them.”

Steve frowns. “What?”

“When we were in town on Wednesday, I talked to Miranda and she mentioned something about church.”

Miranda’s one of the patients at the center. “Did she pressure you? Cause she don’t got that right. Nobody does.”

Bucky abruptly takes his feet off Steve’s lap and sits up straight, looking annoyed. “I already told you, no. Nobody pressure me. I ain’t a little—a little kid, Rogers. Just cause somebody says I should—I should do something—I—it don’t—I won’t be—the pres—shit. Fuck!” He abruptly snaps his mouth shut and closes his eyes.

Steve waits, knowing Bucky’s counting and calming himself down. He also knows better than to interrupt Bucky right now.

When Bucky’s ready, he opens his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Nobody pressured me. Miranda just mentioned church. It’s called having a conversation. Ever heard of it?”

Steve can’t help the smile that tugs on the corners of his lips. Bucky still sounds grumpy, but if he’s making fun of Steve then they’re okay. “I’m vaguely familiar.”

“Oh, good. Anyway, it got me thinking about church. Nobody’s talked to me about it and you never talk about church either so I never had the chance to think about it. But I’ve been thinking about it and I decided I wanna start going to church again.”

“That’s fine. But I still don’t understand why. If you think it’ll connect you with your past then you might be disappointed.” Steve has no idea if church services are still done the same way they were done 70 years ago, but a lot of things he thought would never change have changed so there’s no guarantee Bucky would find something familiar.

“No, it ain’t cause of that. I just feel real grateful for what God’s done for me lately. I haven’t kept Him as part of my life, but He’s kept me a part of his. I wanna…work on that relationship again.”

Steve gapes at him. “You’re…grateful?”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Yeah. Of course I am.” Bucky has a little frown on his face like he can’t believe Steve isn’t understanding.

Steve has the exact same frown on his face because he can’t understand how Bucky could possibly be seeing things this way. “What the hell are you grateful for?! You fought in a horrible war, you were captured by the enemy— _twice!_ —and you spent 70 years being tortured and brainwashed by them and forced to do horrible things. Why the hell would you be grateful for any of that?! You didn’t deserve any of that!”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Of course not, you twit! Don’t be stupid. Now, shut up. I gotta calm—calm down or I’m gonna start losing my words. I’m gonna answer, but I need—I need time.” With that, Bucky closes his eyes as he sorts out what he wants to say in his head before he starts talking.

Obediently, Steve snaps his mouth shut but it’s a struggle to stay quiet because he’s very upset by this whole thing. Bucky’s made so much progress but maybe his progress during therapy has been going sideways rather than forward? Steve’s worried sick over it, but he gives Bucky the silence he needs.

Finally, Bucky opens his eyes and stares at Steve. “I ain’t grateful for all the bad stuff that’s happened. I’m grateful for all the good things. I woulda died if you hadn’t found me when I was living on the street but God let you find me. You almost fell right over me, didn’t you? That ain’t a coincidence. You found me and you brought me here and I’m living a real life. I woulda died and instead, look at me.”

Steve stares at him. “That’s…it wasn’t God who led me to you. I walked that same route a dozen times and I probably walked right past you tons of times without noticing. If it hadn’t been for the damn sun glinting off your arm that day, I wouldn’t have seen you.”

Bucky smiles softly. “But the sun _did_ shine on my arm right then, right when you were passing.”

Steve gapes at him. “That wasn’t God! That’s just how the sun was sitting in the sky right then. If I would have been ten minutes later, the sun woulda moved and I wouldn’t have seen you again. It was just a coincidence.”

“You don’t have to think it was God, but I think so.”

Steve blows out a breath, feeling irritated by this whole thing. “So you think God put you through 70 years of torture just so he could point the sun at your arm one day so I’d save you? Really? You think that’s a decent thing for somebody to do?”

“I don’t think God had anything to do with Hydra capturing me.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve scoffs. “You can’t have it both ways, Barnes. Either God’s all powerful or he don’t exist.”

“I don’t agree. I don’t think God’s as powerful as we were taught when we were kids. I think He does the best He can and sometimes, He don’t got the resources to help somebody right when they’re in a bad situation. But He’ll find other ways to help.”

Not only is this whole conversation making Steve angry, but he’s really annoyed that Bucky’s sitting there and being calm about this while Steve is a seething ball of irritation. “How the hell did your God help you when you were being tortured by Hydra, huh?”

“He made them perfect the cryo technology.”

“What?!”

“Without being in cryo, I would’ve never lived long enough to be reunited with you. God couldn’t get me away from Hydra right then, but He could set up a brighter future for me. And He did that. At least, I believe it. Look at us: we’re sitting here, 70 years after being separated. We both died over there—” Bucky points a finger into the distance, which is always how people used to talk about people who had gone to fight on the front in Europe. “—and we were reunited back here, at home, 70 years later. I got a few more holes in my noggin than I used to, but otherwise, we’re both healthy and whole, barely any older than we were when we both died 70 years ago. God kept both of us alive cause He knew we’d need each other and we’d wanna be together when we woke up in the future.”

Steve shakes his head. “I don’t believe God was involved, Buck. I just can’t make myself believe that.”

“I ain’t asking you to. I ain’t—this ain’t about me wanting to pressure you. This has nothing to do with you. I wanna re-build my relationship with God cause it’s important to _me_. I’m just telling you cause if you’re not okay with it, then I’ll find another way to make sense of what happened to me.”

Taking a deep breath, Steve scrubs his hands over his face. “Jesus Christ. Of course, I’m okay with it. You can believe whatever the hell you want. All I want is for you to be happy. If believing in God and going to church on Sundays makes you happy, then you should do that. I _want_ you to do that.”

Bucky smiles. “Okay, thanks.”

Steve shifts. “Do you want me going to church too?” He can’t quite hide the look of distaste that he knows is on his face, but he feels he has to offer.

Snorting, Bucky rolls his eyes with a smile. “No, you goof. If you wanna go to church cause you wanna go to church, then you go. But I don’t care if you go to church or not, just like you don’t care if I go or not, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. So that’s settled.” Leaning back in his chair, Bucky throws his feet back onto Steve’s lap.

They sit in silence for a while and Steve slowly starts to calm down. He doesn’t understand why he can’t let this whole God issue go. It always riles him up, no matter how many times he tells himself to leave all that stuff in the past.

But as it turns out, telling himself he doesn’t believe in God anymore doesn’t undo the bitter betrayal and disappointment he still feels from when he _had_ believed in Him. Fortunately, none of that has anything to do with Bucky and his desire to go back to church. If re-establishing his relationship with religion will give Bucky peace, then Steve will fully support it.

“Hey, Rogers?”

Grabbing Bucky’s toes, Steve wiggles them. “Hmm?”

“Can you cut my hair for me? I can’t go to church with my hair looking like this.”

Steve’s about to point out that men having long hair isn’t a big deal today, but Bucky won’t see it that way. Plus, the thought of getting to cut Bucky’s hair for him makes his heart leap with joy. “Sure. And Barnes?”

“Yeah?”

“Tomorrow, I’m gonna drop off some more clothes for you. We can’t have you going to church in jeans and a baggy sweater. That’s fine for going to Sunshine Diner but it ain’t good enough for church.”

Smiling softly, Bucky grabs one of Steve’s fingers with his toes and squeezes it gently. “Thanks, Stevie.”

“You can thank me by having Wen help you with your tie so you look decent and having him take a picture of you before you go. It ain’t fair that God’s the only one who gets to see you look all dapper.”

* * *

Cutting Bucky’s hair requires all of Steve’s concentration, as does buying Bucky a suit and Steve doesn’t have time to fully appreciate the effect until he gets a picture of Bucky on Sunday morning.

The picture takes Steve’s breath away, for multiple reasons.

It’s unbelievable seeing Bucky with his hair short again. Steve’s gotten accustomed to the longer hair and Bucky-with-short-hair has only existed in his memories. Even after Steve had cut his hair, he’d been too focused on checking for stray hairs to appreciate how Bucky looked. Seeing the picture on Sunday—more than a day after Steve had cut his hair—makes Steve’s breath catch.

Seeing Bucky standing there, his hair short and wearing a suit brings Steve right back to 1936, which had been one of the last time’s he’d ever seen Bucky look like this. This is _his_ Bucky Barnes. It doesn’t matter that Bucky’s not exactly the same as he’d been back then, but he looks so much like his old self that Steve has trouble remembering what year it actually is.

There’s also the fact that he’s always loved seeing Bucky wearing a suit. Steve had never told Bucky, but one of the reasons he’d always liked going to church was because it was the only time Bucky would regularly put on a suit. And despite the years that had passed since Bucky’s last worn a suit, he looks just as good as he always has.

He doesn’t just look good…he looks very good.

Steve draws in a shaky breath as he stares at his phone and feels arousal simmering in his gut. Blinking hard, he covers the phone with his other hand and sternly stares down at his cock—which has started to show definite interest. “Quit that. Buck’s gonna go to church. It’s bad enough that I ain’t going, but dealing with you right now ain’t appropriate.”

His cock doesn’t care where Bucky’s going and it also doesn’t care that Steve absolutely can’t give it what it wants while Bucky’s heading to church because giving in right now would be so wrong that Steve would feel guilty for eternity.

The situation is temporarily solved by jumping into a cold shower, going for a very long run and having another shower. It helps calm his libido but Steve decides to be kind to himself and doesn’t look at the photo of Bucky for the rest of the day.

Bucky calls him that night and tells him all about how things had gone at church. Apparently, the service had been similar to how they’d done things in the past and Bucky seems very happy that he’d gone. Steve behaves appropriately and he praises and laughs at all the right times, but once they’re done with their phone call and Steve’s lying in bed with his phone on his lap, he finally gives in.

Staring at the photo of Bucky in his suit gets him hard again in seconds and he shoves off his pajama pants, one hand fisting his cock while the other holds the phone in a tight grip.

He comes in a ridiculously short time, covering himself and his pajamas in cum, but it was absolutely worth it.

When he’s slumped against his pillows, catching his breath and still holding his softening cock, he feels a bit guilty. He’d told Bucky how he feels about him during that awkward conversation at the center, but they hadn’t brought it up since. It’s not something that’s relevant to Bucky’s recovery and Steve doesn’t want to make things awkward between them, so Steve has no intention of ever bringing it up again. But is it acceptable for Steve to be getting off to pictures of Bucky?

He thinks about it and decides yes, it’s acceptable. Bucky turns him on and that’s not something Steve needs to apologize for. Doing it secretly like this means he’s not hurting Bucky but he’s also not denying himself. Everybody wins.

* * *

Bucky goes to church the following Sunday too and he’s still as enthusiastic about it as he’d been the previous week. “Guess what?”

Steve makes himself comfortable on his bed. “What?”

“I talked to Father Ray after service today.”

Bucky and Steve had both been flabbergasted when Bucky had discovered that the Reverend of one of the churches in the small town was a black man. Steve hadn’t been as surprised as Bucky, but it had still been a sign of how much things have changed.

Back in their day, church segregation had been very normal. It hadn’t been mandated by law, but white folks went to white church, led by white Reverends and did things their way, and black folks went to black church, led by black Reverends and did things their way. It was just the way things were. From what Steve understands, a lot of communities still keep their churches segregated by choice and he’d been surprised to discover that the biggest church in the little town near Bucky’s rehab center had a mixed congregation and was led by a black Pastor.

“I still can’t believe Father Ray is a black man and we have white folks and colored folks at the same church! Can you believe it?”

Steve smiles, but it’s a strained smile. “Good thing your pa wasn’t there, huh?”

Bringing up references to their pasts is always a gamble: sometimes Bucky will remember what Steve’s talking about, sometimes he doesn’t. But even if he doesn’t, he’s always eager to hear what Steve wants to say. Bucky Barnes had always loved absorbing knowledge like a sponge, especially when it’s about his own life. But today, they’re in luck because Bucky catches onto Steve’s reference right away.

Bucky chuckles. “If he were there and said something rude, I’d have thrown him outta there myself.”

“My ma and I would’ve helped you. Your ma would have been appalled at the scene we were all causing and your sisters would’ve found the whole thing hilarious.”

That makes Bucky laugh harder. “Yeah. Anyway, I talked to Father Ray and I told him I wanted to start praying during the day again. Not just at church, but when I’m by myself. I like that I get to spend time with God when I’m at church, but I wanna have more time with Him. I like the idea of praying regularly again.”

That drains some of the humor from the situation, but Steve’s determined to stay supportive about Bucky’s newfound appreciation for the good Lord. Bucky’s been fully supportive of Steve’s refusal to participate in the situation, so Steve wants to be respectful too. “You wanna pray before meals and bed, like we used to when we were younger?”

“Uh huh. But I didn’t remember any of the prayers we used to do, so I asked Father Ray and he wrote down some nice prayers for me.”

Steve feels a bit disappointed by that. He remembers their old prayers and he would have loved telling Bucky about them. Once again, there’s a new person pushing his way into Bucky’s life and diminishing Steve’s role. But before his grumpiness seeps into his tone, he pushes those thoughts aside. “That’s wonderful, Buck. He seems like a real nice man.”

“Oh, he is! He gave me his phone number and said I could call him if I had any trouble with the prayers or in general.”

“That’s real nice of him. Do—do you want us to pray together before we get off the phone?”

Bucky chuckles softly. The chuckle has a fond tone to it. “Jesus…you punk. No, I don’t want you praying just cause I’m gonna pray. Praying ain’t something we gotta do together. I wanna do it cause it’ll make me feel good but if it won’t make you feel good, then you don’t gotta do it. I’ll do my prayers once I’m off the phone with you.”

Steve can’t help but feel relieved about that. Bucky’s really being such a peach about this whole thing. With a single word from Bucky, Steve would start going to church, praying or doing anything else Bucky wants and Steve thinks Bucky knows that. The fact that Bucky’s decided not to use that power shows what a wonderful person he is. Steve’s always been pleased that his heart had chosen such a good person to love.

“But I had a question,” Bucky says.

“Yeah?”

“And you gotta be honest, okay? I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“I’ll be honest, I promise. What’s the question?”

“Can I add you into my prayers?”

Steve’s breath catches. “You don’t gotta do that. This is about you and God. You don’t gotta involve me, if you don’t wanna. Believe me, I’m happy to stay out of it.”

“I know. It ain’t got nothing to do with what you believe and what you wanna do. But I believe in God and if I’m gonna ask Him to keep guiding me and protecting me, then I wanna make sure He’s doing the same for you. Even if you don’t believe He’s doing any of that. Is that okay?”

There’s a lump in Steve’s throat. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Steve can hear the smile in Bucky’s voice.

Once they’re off the phone, Steve lies down and glances at the side of the bed. Dozens of miles away, he knows Bucky’s kneeling next to his bed like they had every night when they were young and he’s clasping his hands, bowing his head and quietly reciting a prayer. He probably has the paper Father Ray had given him on the bedspread so he can refer to it if he forgets some words.

And somewhere in that prayer, he’ll add in Steve’s name. Not because he has to. Not because Father Ray had put it in there. Not because he’s worried that Steve’s unsure about his own religious stance.

But just because he wants to.

* * *

A few days later, Steve gets a phone call from Bucky in the middle of the day. That’s unusual, but what’s even more unusual is that Bucky isn’t upset.

This week, Bucky had been learning how to go shopping on his own by practicing in the fake grocery store that’s in the center and it had been really difficult for him. As Steve had predicted many months ago, Bucky had gotten confused by the coins that hadn’t existed back in their day and his confusion mixing with the crazy inflation rise meant Bucky had gotten completely overwhelmed until he’d even started confusing the concept of a ‘cent’ with ‘dollar’ and he’d ended up having to leave the store to do his calming exercises and call Steve.

Steve had played his part and helped calm Bucky down and as the staff had done so many times before, they’d quickly adjusted things to make the process easier for Bucky. They slowed everything down and had Bucky just practice getting accustomed to the coins and bills first by doing simple games with them, like sorting them into groups—Wen had sent Steve a picture of the pile of bills and coins before Bucky had sorted them and another photo showing a grinning Bucky sitting behind a table of neatly sorted piles—and doing very basic math with them. Then they’d shown Bucky inflation charts for simple items like an apple or movie tickets and explained how the price had changed over the decades. Just yesterday, Bucky had felt ready to go back into the store again and it had gone very well, so Bucky’s random mid-day phone call makes Steve apprehensive; fearing that Bucky’s had another setback.

But it turns out that Bucky’s doing fantastic and this phone call has nothing to do with his shopping and financial skills. He just has a 15 minute break between activities and he decided to sneakily call Steve because he has big, big news that couldn’t wait until later.

“I’m gonna go ride horses!” he whispers into the phone.

“Buck, you don’t gotta whisper. You ain’t gonna get in trouble if they catch you calling me during the day.”

“You ain’t listening, Rogers!” Bucky hisses at him, sounding very excited. “I’m gonna ride horses! _Real_ horses!”

Frowning, Steve tries figuring out what Bucky could possibly mean. Is he referring to some type of exercise equipment? Or maybe some kind of game? But Bucky’s wording had been so specific…

“What do you mean ‘ride horses’? The center ain’t got no horses.”

There’s an exasperated sigh from the other end of the phone. “Not here, moron! We’re gonna go to a farm! A farm that’s got lots of horses and we get to brush ‘em and talk to ‘em and we’re gonna learn how to ride ‘em!”

Steve blinks. “Real horses? You’re gonna ride _real_ horses?”

He can’t picture Bucky Barnes on a farm. The only time either of them had ever been on a farm had been during the war when they’d camped out in abandoned ranches for a few nights and that doesn’t count. Aside from that, the only time they’d ever been around horses was when Bucky had a job helping with the milk and bread deliveries and the big delivery cart had been pulled by horses.

“Yeah, real horses! You remember I used to be around horses a bit when I was younger?”

Steve frowns. “Yeah, but you didn’t ride ‘em or anything like that. You helped with the milk and bread deliveries.”

“Yeah, but I really liked being around the horses. One of ‘em was called Ginger. You remember her?”

Smiling, Steve realizes why Bucky likes this so much. Bucky Barnes, the animal lover. “I don’t remember Ginger specifically, but yeah, you were fond of all the horses. You knew their names and you’d pet them when the delivery driver wasn’t looking.”

“I think he was mean to the horses. I didn’t like that.”

Steve sighs softly. “Yeah, I know. That was one of the reasons you quit. Well, that and Becca was born that year so you had to get a better paying job with more hours.”

“Uh huh.” Bucky doesn’t sound like he remembers, but surprisingly, he doesn’t ask Steve to provide more details. Probably because he wants to keep talking about the horses in his future. “Some of the patients have gone already but there’s three of us who are gonna go for our first time. We’re gonna learn how to brush the horses and how to talk to ‘em and all sorts of other things. Then we’re gonna go for a ride!”

Bucky’s enthusiasm is infectious and Steve finds himself smiling. “I’m glad you’re excited. I hope you’re gonna have fun. But you’re gonna be careful, right? Horses are big, strong animals.”

“Oh, yeah. They have special trainers there and Alisha told me I have to listen to the trainers or I’m not allowed to go back. I’m gonna be good, I promise.”

* * *

“—used my metal thumb to open her mouth and then I put the metal bit into her mouth and pulled the whole bridle up!”

“Yeah? You used your metal hand to help you? That’s fantastic!”

“Uh huh! It was a little complicated cause I had to hold the bridle over Jade’s nose with one hand while I was putting the bit into her mouth, but I did it all by myself! The person just had to help me a little. And then I pulled the bridle up and put Jade’s ears and her hair through it. Then I did up all these little straps! They all have names, but I didn’t write everything down. I’ll write it down next time, I promise.”

Steve can’t stop smiling. Bucky had called him right after dinner and they’d been talking for more than an hour. Bucky’s group had started out by eating a picnic lunch on a hill in the middle of nowhere that had beautiful views of the endless rolling hills and forests, then they’d headed to the farm where they’d spent the rest of the day. They’d gotten back from the farm just before dinner and even though Bucky’s supposed to be working on some writing exercises, he’d decided to call Steve early.

“Don’t worry about it, buddy. You don’t gotta learn the names of everything all at once. When you go back, you can write down the names.”

“Yeah. So after we got the bridle on, we had to put the saddle on. There’s a small blanket that you gotta put on first cause the saddle’s heavy and you don’t wanna hurt her so you gotta put the blanket on. But then you put the saddle on and there’s a strap—I forgot the name again—that goes under her and I tightened it all by myself! The person helping me said I did a really good job.”

“That’s great! What happened next?”

“I had to take the reins—you remember what the reins are, right? You remember I told you?”

Steve struggles to suppress a fond chuckle. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Oh, good. So I took the reins and I learned how to bring Jade outside and how to get on the saddle. It wasn’t hard at all! Then I learned how to make Jade go forward. She was a really good girl and she liked me so we got along real well. We went around this fenced area for a while and then we went into the woods!”

Steve’s eyebrows fly up. “They let you guys go into the woods?”

“Well, not alone. We had a few trainer people with us and we went real slow. It was so nice! Jade was making these soft snorting noises and she’d toss her head and I was holding the reins and sitting on the saddle. The woods were so peaceful and we heard the birds and the wind rustling in the leaves. Jade’s feet were crunching on sticks and leaves and everything was so wonderful.”

Thinking back, Steve can’t even remember the last time Bucky had been this enthusiastic about something, never mind this talkative. Steve can barely get a word in as Bucky keeps chattering about his day, telling Steve every detail. Steve still thinks it’s a little funny that city-boy Bucky Barnes liked spending the day on a quiet farm, but it’s obvious that Bucky really loved it.

A few hours later, Steve gets another treat when he gets an email from the center and sees that a staff member accompanying the group had taken photos of everybody throughout the day. To protect other patient’s privacy, every photo only shows one patient and Steve is only given access to the ones that show Bucky.

The first few photos show Bucky standing somewhere with gorgeous scenery behind him; blue sky and rolling green hills as far as the eye could see. That must have been at the picnic. The later pictures are all at the farm and Bucky’s wearing the kind of helmet people use for riding bicycles and standing next to a horse who must be Jade. Bucky is grinning ear to ear, his eyes are shining and as Steve keeps scrolling through the album, Bucky’s smile stays just as bright in every single photo.


	21. Chapter 21

Bucky’s love of being at the ranch doesn’t diminish. Over the next few weeks, he goes back for more horse riding and he soaks up everything he learns like a sponge. He also passes on all of his newfound knowledge to Steve.

That’s how Steve learns a ‘frog’ isn’t just a small amphibian creature, but it’s the name of a part on a horse’s hoof. A ‘curry comb’ has nothing to do with the Indian food but it’s a rough, plastic comb with bristles that’s used to remove dry dirt from a horse’s coat. The saddle has a ‘horn’ but it doesn’t make any noise and apparently has something to do with using a lasso rope. And the expression ‘you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink’ is absolutely true.

“I couldn’t believe it! We were at the creek for ages and he just didn’t wanna drink. I talked to him so nice and let the reins loose and he just snuffled at the water but didn’t drink nothing. But as soon as we got going and we’re heading down the trail again, he turns around and wants to go back for a drink!”

Steve chuckles at the story as he’s relaxing on his armchair in his and Bucky’s apartment. “That’s the difference between being in a car and riding a horse, huh? A horse has a mind of its own.”

Bucky laughs. “Yeah, I guess so. But I love it, I really do. Did I tell you I learned how to canter yesterday? It felt real nice, like being on a rocking chair. Milly did such a good job.”

“Yeah, you told me. I’m proud of you, you know that?”

“I know! I’m proud of myself too.”

There’s a lull in the conversation and Steve decides it’s high time to bring up a subject he’s been meaning to discuss with Bucky. The days are rapidly passing and Bucky’s getting closer and closer to finishing the program and it’ll soon be time for him to come home. Steve can’t wait, but he’s also been puzzled over how the center has structured Bucky’s final stage of learning. It’s great that he’s enjoying being around the horses, but Steve’s been waiting for them to do more intensive desensitizing training so Bucky will be ready to face the chaos of living in the city. So far, there hasn’t been any sign that the center would start pushing for that, which Steve finds strange. “So, Buck?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you love being out on the ranch, but those skills ain’t exactly useful for living in a city, are they? It’s fantastic that you’re enjoying it, but shouldn’t you stay focused on learning skills that you’re actually gonna use later?”

“Why wouldn’t I use what I’m learning?” He sounds confused.

Steve chuckles. “There ain’t no ranches in DC. At least, not where our apartment is. We could drive out to a ranch a few times a month if you enjoy being there, but I think you gotta stay focused on learning skills you’re gonna need to live in the city.”

Bucky doesn’t respond.

Frowning, Steve waits. But when Bucky doesn’t say anything, Steve prods him a bit. “Buck? Did you—”

“I’m—I’m not—I don’t—why is there—where’s our apartment?”

The sudden change in Bucky’s demeanor is puzzling. “Our apartment’s here, in DC. Remember, I told you I found us an apartment? You didn’t wanna discuss it earlier, but we only have a few weeks to go until you’re done the program so I—”

“I don’t want—I want the ranch.”

Steve smiles. “I know you like being there and I promise, we can visit a few times a month.”

“But I like—I like my church and Sun—Sunshine Diner and Jade and Milly and the trees and the creek. I don’t—it’s too—there’s too much—I can’t—shit!”

The longer he stutters, the angrier Bucky sounds. His anger takes Steve by surprise and he starts to get a bad feeling in his gut. Bucky’s been doing so well and Steve was sure Bucky would be happy when he’s reminded about their apartment and he’d be looking forward to living with Steve. “Why are you getting upset? You don’t gotta lose Jade and Milly or your church. I’ll drive you to Virginia whenever you want.”

“I—I—I—you! It don’t—I feel—it’s too—” Bucky’s yelling and his voice is shaking. Abruptly, he stops talking.

Steve decides to take advantage of the silence, desperate to smooth things over. Bucky’s confused and scared, which is understandable. “I promise, I’ll drive you to Virginia whenever you want. And you don’t gotta go to Sunshine Diner for those burgers or your vanilla milkshakes. I’ll learn how to make all that stuff.”

“I want—I want the milkshake from _here!_ I want—my trees are _here!_ I want—fuck!”

“Buck—”

“Shut—shut up! I gotta—I gotta count. I can’t—I need—shut up!”

Steve snaps his mouth shut, stunned and hurt at Bucky’s anger. His mind is whirling and he can’t understand why things are going so badly. Bucky should be thrilled that Steve found him a nice apartment and that he’ll learn how to make Bucky’s favorite new foods and that Steve will drive him back and forth to Virginia. He doesn’t really sound confused...instead, he’s angry and Steve doesn’t understand why.

Bucky’s breathing hard and Steve hears him mumbling numbers to himself as he counts forwards and backwards a few times. Finally, Bucky takes a deep breath. “I’m gonna talk and you’re—you’re—you’re not gonna interrupt.”

“Okay, I’ll—”

“Shut up! I told you to shut up! I’m gonna talk. You’re gonna—you’re gonna listen or I’m gonna—gonna hang up the phone.”

Panic is clogging Steve’s throat. What the hell is happening?!

Bucky’s quiet for a little while, before he takes a deep breath. “I don’t wanna live with you.”

It feels like a punch to the gut and Steve’s left reeling. He can’t even breathe. Those are words he’s never, ever heard Bucky Barnes say and this must be a nightmare. There’s no world in which Bucky Barnes doesn’t want to be by Steve’s side twenty-four hours a day. Or at least if such a world does exist, Steve doesn’t want any part of it.

Forgetting his promise to stay quiet, Steve finds his voice. “You don’t mean that. Buck, tell me you don’t mean that. You’re tired and you’ve had—”

“Don’t—don’t tell me what to say! You can’t—you can’t tell me what to—what to say or do or where to live! You don’t—you don’t got the right!”

Now Steve’s pain is rapidly morphing into anger. “I ain’t telling you what to do! You should wanna live with me cause you want to!”

“Well, I don’t!”

Tears spring to Steve’s eyes and he struggles to blink them back. His heart is aching as his anger dissolves into pain again. Why is everything falling apart? “You’re just tired. You’re having trouble using your words and I think if we both get some rest then—”

“I’m using the right words but you—you ain’t listening! I don’t—I don’t—this—I need—I’m better—it’s here!”

“Let’s just get some rest, okay?” Steve breathes out, his voice choked with unshed tears as he struggles to stay in control.

“Stop—stop— _stop_ treating me like a stupid—a stupid kid! I ain’t—I ain’t a stupid kid!”

“I’m not—”

“Stop! Talking! It’s my—it’s my turn to talk!”

Clenching his jaw, Steve shuts his mouth, but it’s already too late. There’s a click and the line goes dead. Pulling the phone away from his ear with a shaking hand, Steve stares at it and confirms that Bucky had hung up on him. Thinking he’d done it accidentally, Steve sits there and waits, sure Bucky will call back.

But he doesn’t. Fifteen minutes go by, during which Steve wipes the increasingly faster flood of tears off his cheeks and struggles not to drop his phone as he stares at it.

Finally, Steve takes a breath and calls the center. He reaches Ryan, the evening receptionist and quietly asks to be connected to Bucky’s room. Ryan sounds hesitant but Steve explains that Bucky had accidentally hung up the phone and might be hesitating about calling him back in case he presses the wrong button again.

Ryan connects him and it rings twice before Bucky picks up the phone. “Hello?” He still sounds angry.

“Buck, I—”

“Shut. Up! No more! No! More!” Then the phone is slammed down again.

This time, Steve knows Bucky did it on purpose. It’s clear that Bucky’s very angry but Steve still has no idea what he did wrong. All he did was tell Bucky that him learning what a curry comb is won’t help him when they’re going grocery shopping at the big superstore at the mall. And that’s true. Steve has no idea why that made Bucky so angry, but that’s not even the worst part.

“ _I don’t wanna live with you.”_

Those words shouldn’t ever come out of Bucky Barnes’ mouth when he’s talking to Steve. It doesn’t fit.

A million possibilities race through Steve’s mind: is Bucky’s seizure medication impacting his brain in some way? Is Father Ray trying to drive a wedge between Steve and Bucky because Steve doesn’t believe in God anymore? Has Dr. Stewart been manipulating Bucky?

But the question is: why? Why would they want to keep Bucky away from him? It makes no sense. Steve’s done everything that the staff at the center told him to do. He’s been patient and he’s given Bucky the space he needs. He only visits on visiting days, he’s never harassed the staff when he thought Bucky was doing something he wasn’t ready for, and tonight was the first time he’s called Bucky himself.

He’d followed the rules every step of the way and this is how they reward him?! By taking Bucky away from him?!

This is exactly like it had been with Fake-Steve. Well, Steve took care of that problem and he’ll do it again. Once again, Steve will have to convince Bucky that those other people don’t have his best interests at heart and that he needs to trust Steve because apparently, Steve’s the only one who will take care of Bucky properly.

There’s a small voice in the back of his head, asking if he’s sure about this...? Is the only possible explanation for Bucky’s anger that he’s been manipulated by other people? Is Steve so certain that none of Bucky’s words had been his own?

Well, obviously they hadn’t been Bucky’s own words! The only world in which Bucky Barnes doesn’t want to live with Steve is one where Bucky’s been manipulated into it. And given how vulnerable Bucky still is, it’s easy to imagine that the people at the center and others—like Father Ray and the people at the ranch—have all been taking advantage of him.

Steve sits there for hours, his mind whirling around in circles. He’s trying to figure out when the manipulation had started and why they’re doing it in the first place. He’s also trying to think up a good plan for getting Bucky out of the center without anybody realizing that Steve’s caught onto their plan.

He’s just dismissed the fourth plan he’d created when his phone starts to ring. It’s the middle of the night so he has no idea who could possibly be calling him until he looks down and sees Bucky’s phone number. It’s so surprising that Steve just sits there, staring at his phone and not answering. Eventually, he realizes Bucky’s going to hang up soon and he quickly answers the call. “Buck?” He whispers.

“I’m sorry.”

Steve sighs. “You got nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, I do. It was wrong for me to yell like that. I was rude and I said some awful things that I didn’t mean.”

Hope lights up in Steve’s heart again. “So you do wanna live with me?”

Bucky makes a weird noise in his throat. “Remember when I told you that Alisha and Dr. Stewart didn’t want me to deal with things that are far in the future?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, we’ve been talking about my future for the last couple of days. I didn’t tell you cause you’re a big part of that.”

Steve smiles. Things are back on track! “I know I am. And I promise, you’re gonna love our apartment and I’ll drive you to Virginia whenever you want.”

Bucky sighs softly, but it’s not a happy sigh...and that’s not good. “Can you come to the center tomorrow? We need to talk about things but I don’t wanna do it over the phone. And I want Dr. Stewart there in case I get my words jumbled up again.”

Steve doesn’t like the sound of this. Bucky sounds calm and rational, but Steve had noticed Bucky’s deliberate dodge around Steve’s reassurance that Bucky will love being in DC.

“Stevie? Can you come tomorrow? We don’t gotta do it tomorrow, but I wanna do it soon.”

Well, even if Steve hates the idea of speaking to the stupid people who have manipulated Bucky, he should go to the center anyway. If he manages to convince Bucky to leave with him, they can drive straight back to DC before anybody can try to change Bucky’s mind. “Yeah, I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Awesome! I’ll meet you in the lobby, okay?”

“Okay.”

* * *

The drive to the center gives Steve plenty of time come up with a plan, but he keeps second guessing himself. After all the progress Bucky’s made, it doesn’t seem right for Steve to swoop in and decide that Bucky’s not making sound decisions.

Bucky has come a very long way from when Steve had stumbled across him on the street. Back then, there had been no doubt that Bucky wasn’t capable of taking care of himself properly or making sound decisions. But Bucky seems so much like his old self now. Not exactly the same, but the differences are minor. By the time Steve pulls his car into the center’s parking lot, he’s more confused then ever and decides to see how things go before making any concrete plans.

As usual, Bucky’s waiting in the lobby for him and he’s grinning through the glass doors, waving as soon as Steve’s within eyesight.

Once the doors part, Steve steps inside and a smile tugs on his own lips. No matter what else has happened, Bucky looks great. Even though Steve last saw him two days ago, seeing Bucky with his short hair, not wearing the seizure helmet and grinning that familiar grin always makes Steve’s heart soar. “Hey, Buck.”

Bucky hurries up to him and hugs him—using both arms—and sighs deeply. “Hey, Stevie. Thanks for coming.”

Steve holds him tight and rubs his back. “You know I’ll take any excuse to come see you.”

Chuckling into Steve’s shoulder, Bucky gives him a tight squeeze before releasing him. “I know. Punk.” Then Bucky’s smile gets a bit strained. “Do you mind if we go see Dr. Stewart right now? She had an open slot. Once we’re done talking, I’ve got a treat for you, but only if you’re in the mood.”

“I’m always in the mood for a treat, especially if it’s coming from you.”

Bucky’s smile gets even more strained. “I’m not so sure. You might be in a real bad mood by the end of our talk, but we’ll see.”

Before Steve can ask more questions, Bucky jerks his head down the hallway. “Come on, let’s go.”

Steve’s stomach clenches into a tight knot as they walk, feeling apprehensive about this whole thing. When they get to the familiar therapy room, Steve’s distracted by greeting Dr. Stewart. It isn’t until he’s sitting in his usual chair that he remembers he should watch her carefully, in case she’s on the list of people who are manipulating Bucky.

But as he sits there, listening to Bucky and Dr. Stewart chat as they sit on their own chairs, Steve begins to seriously doubt his theory that people at the center have been manipulating Bucky. He just can’t think of a motive and Bucky isn’t acting like he’s under their control.

“Steve?”

He blinks at Dr. Stewart. “Yes?”

“I’m going to let you and Bucky talk. I’m just here to observe and lend a helping hand, if either of you needs one.”

Steve glances at Bucky, who’s looking very nervous. He’s shifting his jaw and both of his hands are fiddling with the hem of his sweater. Seeing Bucky looking nervous shifts Steve into protective mode and he pushed all thoughts of his crazy theories aside. Reaching over, he squeezes Bucky’s knee. “What are you looking so nervous for, jerk? It’s just me. Since when are we nervous around each other, huh? Around other people, sure. But you ain’t ever been nervous around me. Don’t start picking up bad habits now. We’ll have to send you to another program to get rid of ‘em.”

That makes Bucky smile and he reaches down to squeeze Steve’s hand.

For a while, neither of them speak. Bucky just sits there, staring at a spot over Steve’s shoulder while Steve gazes around the room, letting Bucky gather his thoughts. A few months ago, he would have been pushing Bucky to start talking and helping him keep his thoughts on track, but he knows all Bucky needs from him is a little patience. Sometimes he forgets that when his temper runs away from him, but that’s something he’s going to keep working on.

Finally, Bucky takes a deep breath and sits up straight, which is Steve’s cue to focus back on him.

“Stevie, this is gonna be a tough conversation, but a real important one. I want you to listen, okay? Please? Don’t interrupt me cause I’m gonna lose track of what I’m saying.”

Steve nods. “I’ll stay quiet, I promise.” His stomach clenches with worry over what Bucky might have to say, but his desire to make the conversation go well for Bucky’s sake overrides his worry.

Bucky smirks at him. “I know you and it’ll be tough cause you won’t like what I have to say but please, please, _please_ just listen. It’s real important to me that I get these thoughts out right.”

“I’ll be good, I promise.”

Bucky gives him a long look, but when Steve sits back in his chair and mimes locking his lips shut and throwing away the key, Bucky smiles softly. “Okay, gimme a minute.”

Once again, Bucky stares off into the distance, collecting his thoughts and organizing them. When he’s ready, he leans forward, propping both elbows on his knees and looks at Steve as he starts talking. “The last six months—hell, it’s been longer than six months—have been all about me. The two of us have spent every second worrying about me. And I’m grateful that we did. I would’ve died if you hadn’t rescued me.”

Steve stares at him, remembering how much it had pained him to see Bucky starving, filthy and confused, sitting on the sidewalk and guarding his paper cup every single day because that asshole had lied to him.

Bucky gives him a soft smile as if he knows what Steve’s remembering. “I know how hard that was for you. I remember when you got sick and it always made my heart hurt to see you suffering. I always wished I could reach inside you, take out the sickness and give it to myself. I know you must have been going crazy, just sitting on the sidewalk with me for all those hours and wanting to hug me and make everything okay, but you knew it wasn’t that simple. And even once you brought me to your hotel room, things were hard for you. I wasn’t doing well and you knew I wasn’t improving. I remember I made such a fuss when you mentioned the program.”

Steve remembers it too. It seems like ages ago that Bucky had cried and yelled when Steve had brought up the program. He’d accused Steve of wanting to abandon him and wanting to break his promise to take care of him.

“Even once I came here, things were hard for you. I remember I had that tantrum when Alisha wanted me to eat breakfast by myself the morning I met Wen. You remember that? I threw my tray and I cried and made an awful fuss.”

Oh, Steve definitely remembers that. That day had been one of the hardest of his entire life and it had been such a struggle not to give in and bring Bucky back to DC to their safe hotel room.

“And now look at me,” Bucky says, gesturing down at himself with his metal arm, which makes the point even more strongly than if he’d used his right arm. “You fought so hard for me and you never gave up on me and now look. Remember I told you that I wanted to be the best Bucky Barnes I could be? I wasn’t being the best Bucky Barnes I could be when I was in that hotel room, but I’m definitely the best now. I can feel it.”

Steve smiles, feeling proud of Bucky. He’s not sure where this conversation is going, but it’s nice thinking about how far Bucky’s come. Six month ago, he wasn’t feeding or dressing himself and now he’s spending his days cooking, learning how to shop for groceries and riding horses.

“I couldn’t have come this far without you. There’s no doubt about that. You pushed me and supported me and you always, always, _always_ did what was best for me, even when I got angry and said awful things and it would have been so much easier for you to give in and let me go back to DC to our hotel room.”

It’s actually very nice to hear Bucky express appreciation for what Steve’s done for him in the last few months. They’ve been saving each other’s lives for as long as Steve can remember, but the gratitude is nice.

“But I’m at the point where I’m okay. I don’t need you to spend every second worrying about me no more. Maybe only every third second.” Bucky quirks a smile at him but Steve can’t return it because he’s not liking the new direction of this conversation.

He wants to open his mouth and demand to know what Bucky means. His stomach clenches into knots again because this conversation reminds him of Bucky’s words from last night.

“ _I don’t wanna live with you.”_

But the second he opens his mouth, Bucky gives him a look and Steve snaps it shut again, remembering his promise. He might hate where this discussion seems to be heading, but he’d made a promise. Back in the old days, Steve would have ignored Bucky’s request and it would have led to a shouting match that they would have eventually worked through. But these days, Bucky can’t keep up with shouting matches and that’s not fair. So Steve needs to stay quiet and tell the rising panic in his gut to wait.

“I’m ready to change our relationship a little bit. Not too much, but it’s necessary. You’ve spent the last six months being my friend but also my—my—damn, what’s the word, Dr. Stewart?”

“Caregiver,” the doctor quietly offers up, abruptly reminding Steve of her presence.

“Right, thanks. So you’ve been my friend and my caregiver, but I don’t need a caregiver no more. Sure, we’ll keep taking care of each other cause that’s what we do, but I think it’s time for you to focus on your own life a little bit. Of course, that life can have me in it, but I think you’ve put your own life on hold to take care of me and I wanna change that.”

Steve frowns at him, not understanding what Bucky’s saying. Opening his mouth to ask for clarification, he remembers his promise and snaps his mouth shut again.

Probably noticing Steve’s confused frown, Bucky smiles softly. “I know that everything you’ve done in the last few months has been for me and I’m grateful, believe me. But you haven’t spent any time living your own life and that’s dangerous.”

How the hell is—

“It’s dangerous cause if I’m your entire world, that’s a lot of pressure on me. It also ain’t good cause if I’m your entire world, then you ain’t ever putting yourself first. You don’t have your own life and I don’t like that.”

Now Steve is starting to get offended. He opens and shuts his mouth a few times and fidgets in his seat. Damn Barnes and his stupid request that Steve keep his mouth shut.

Bucky gives him a knowing smile. “If I let you talk, do you promise you won’t get angry? You know I’ll lose track of the conversation if we start yelling.”

Swallowing hard, Steve quells his temper and nods.

Bucky gives him a long look, then he leans over and pretends to unlock Steve’s mouth. “There you go.”

Steve doesn’t waste a second before he’s letting out the words he’s been holding in. “I _do_ have a life! I have an apartment and a car and I find us books to read.”

Bucky’s staring at him, his eyes looking a bit sad. “Did you do any of those things cause you wanted ‘em or cause you thought I wanted ‘em?”

That makes Steve’s thought stutter to a halt. He’s about to retort that yes, of course he wanted those things. But did he really? Living in the apartment is nicer than a hotel but everything about the apartment was chosen based on what Bucky would need or want. The purchase of the car was the same thing. And Steve’s never chosen books he wanted to read. It’s always been about what Bucky would enjoy listening to.

“When’s the last time you did something for yourself? Something that had nothing to do with me and something you loved doing?” Bucky asks him quietly.

Steve gapes at him. He tries to think of something and he really can’t. It’s shocking and also disturbing. “I…don’t remember.”

Reaching over, Bucky grabs his hand with his metal hand and squeezes it gently. Steve still isn’t accustomed to Bucky touching him with the prosthetic and the cold metal always feels weird for a second.

“That’s what I’m talking about, Stevie. But it’s worse than that. You haven’t been living your own life, but you’ve been planning out mine cause I think you’re too scared to focus on your own. I think you’ve been using me as a—as a—cane? No. Something like a cane? Dr. Stew—”

“Crutch,” Steve says numbly. “I’ve been using you as a crutch.”

It’s not the first time somebody’s accused him of using Bucky as a crutch. Sam had said the same thing to him when Steve had been searching for Bucky. Steve had dismissed those accusations and he remembers getting into a big fight with Sam over it—but now Bucky is using the same words. Thinking back, Steve comes to the realization that they’re both probably right.

No, not probably. They _are_ right. He’d always justified it to himself because Bucky really _had_ needed his help. When Steve had rescued him, there’s no way Steve could have left him alone in the hotel room while he went out with friends or went to work five days a week. He wouldn’t have had the free time to bring Bucky here and spend several days with him. In fact, if he did have a job, he probably wouldn’t have been allowed to come see Bucky twice a week for the last six months.

It seems Bucky’s been thinking about this for a while and he’s come to the same conclusion. “Having you focus on me so much has definitely helped me. I couldn’t have come this far without knowing that I had you right there, right beside me whenever I needed you. But I’m doing good now and I want us to focus on you.”

Steve stares at him. His anxiety has returned, but for different reasons. If he doesn’t have Bucky to focus on, then his entire life is just gaping emptiness. He’s even lost touch with Sam. He has no friends, no hobbies, no job, nothing. It’s a scary thought and Steve has no idea how he’ll fill that emptiness.

But then it occurs to him that he won’t have to do it alone. If Bucky comes to live with him in DC, Bucky can help him. “I’d like that, but I’m gonna need help.”

Bucky smiles. “And I’m gonna help you. That’s what we do.” But then Bucky’s smile gets a bit strained. “But I can’t help you by coming to DC with you.”

The panic that those words evoke in Steve is as gut wrenching as it had been last night. “But I wanna still be friends. I need—I—”

“Hey, hey, quit that,” Bucky says, grabbing both of his hands, one with each of his own and squeezing them. “I never said nothing about not wanting to be friends. You’re a permanent part of my life, Steve Rogers. You always have been and that’s never gonna change. _Never._ I want you in my life just like you want me in yours. But I think it ain’t healthy if we _need_ each other just cause we can’t handle life on our own.”

“But…Buck, I _can’t_ do it on my own.” He’s so panicked that he’s on the verge of tears.

Sliding off his chair, Bucky kneels in front of him. It abruptly reminds Steve of how Alisha had been with Bucky during their first meeting when Bucky had become so upset. It’s wonderful that Bucky’s progressed so much that he’s now calmly helping Steve deal with a difficult situation, but it doesn’t make things easier.

“You ain’t gonna be alone. You ain’t _ever_ gonna be alone. I’m gonna help you and I’m gonna be with you every step of the way. Just not…physically every step of the way. I can’t be in DC. Not cause I don’t wanna be with you, but cause it ain’t a good environment for me.”

“But…you’ve got me in DC. I’ll take care of you.”

Bucky squeezes his hands. “That’s the point. I don’t want you spending every second of your life taking care of me. I want you to support me when I need you to, but not every second. I want you to focus on your own life and I wanna support you, but that means I gotta stay healthy.”

Steve wants to argue that being around Steve will guarantee that Bucky will stay healthy…

…but that’s not really true, is it?

If Steve’s truly going to put effort into finding hobbies, friends and a job, then he can’t be around Bucky twenty-four hours a day. Would Bucky be able to handle being in DC on his own for hours every single day? Part of Steve wants to insist that yes, of course he can…

…but again, that’s not true and Steve knows it.

It seems Bucky’s not sure that Steve will come to the conclusions he’s mentally reaching because he’s calmly putting Steve’s thoughts into words. “I’ve worked hard with the desensitizing exercises, but I still can’t handle being around too much noise and too many moving things. I can’t keep track of things and I get confused and stressed. But I also don’t wanna be inside all the time just to avoid noise and chaos. I love being outside, whether I’m walking around here or at the ranch. I spent years locked up in a dark Hydra cell and being put into the cryotube. I wanna be outside in the warm sunshine where I’m free to move around as much as I want.”

Steve nods, feeling a bit glum, but he sees where this conversation is going. “But if there’s too many people or cars or other things around, you don’t enjoy being outside.”

“Yeah. That’s why I love being out at the ranch. It’s just me and a big open sky, huge fields and yeah, a couple of people and horses, but there’s very little noise and there’s no chaos. Things move at the pace I need. It’s freedom for my soul but it’s also what my head needs. And I love being in town too. It’s a little stressful at times, but I love going to Sunshine Diner. You know I have a hard time remembering people’s names and conversations can be tough. But they all know me. I get to sit at the same table, they don’t put too many other people at the tables around me and they know what I wanna eat and they know my name and it’s just so nice.”

It’s ironic that Bucky enjoys exactly what Steve had hated about being in that town. He’d hated having everybody recognize him as Captain America or trying to act too familiar with him. Maybe it’s because he’s not accustomed to it, but he loves the anonymity the city provides. But that anonymity would just cause Bucky stress. And if Steve has to choose between causing himself stress or Bucky stress, that’s no choice.

Taking a deep breath, he squeezes Bucky’s hands and smiles at him. “Okay. So you wanna find a place for us to live in town?”

Bucky smiles, but then to Steve’s confusion, he shakes his head. “No. I know you don’t like being in that town. You still like the noise and chaos of the city.”

“I’d get used to country life, don’t worry about that.”

“I’m gonna worry about it, cause you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“You’re focusing on me instead of yourself. You’re completely ignoring what you need.”

Steve smiles. “I just need you.”

Bucky’s responding smile is soft but it has an edge of steel to it. “I know and that’s what we gotta change. I can’t be your whole world, Stevie. It’s too big of a responsibility and that ain’t fair or healthy for either of us. If you wanna live in the country cause you love the idea of living in the country, then sure—we’ll find a place to live in town or out in the middle of nowhere. But I know you only wanna do it cause you’re thinking about what’s best for me. I want you to figure out what’s best for you.”

That’s…a question Steve has no idea how to answer. “If I ain’t allowed to count you, then I have no idea what would make me happy.”

“Exactly. That’s what we gotta figure out.”

The idea of really, truly focusing on himself and trying to fill the gaping emptiness that the non-Bucky portions of his life are is terrifying. He’s probably clutching Bucky’s hands way too hard as he stares down at him. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Bucky smiles, but it’s a smile full of confidence as if he already knows that they’ll succeed even if they have no idea how to get it done. It’s a smile Steve’s seen on his face a million times. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time. We figured things out for me, now we’ll do the same for you.”

“I can’t do it on my own. I don’t even—it’s—I’m scared,” he whispers, feeling a bit ridiculous.

Bucky releases Steve’s hands and reaches up to cup his face with one warm hand and one cold but both equally firm. Smiling at Steve, Bucky leans up and kisses him on the forehead. “I’m gonna help you, I promise. You don’t gotta be scared cause we’ll figure it out together.”


	22. Chapter 22

Following the conversation about his future—or lack of it—Steve really wants to get out of the center. Dr. Stewart offers to talk to Steve about his future plans, but Steve’s tired and still a bit anxious and he doesn’t know the doctor well enough to feel comfortable around her.

Probably sensing how Steve feels, Bucky asks if he’s in the mood for a treat.

“I’m kinda tired.”

Bucky gives him a soft smile. “I know, but the treat will make you feel better, I promise.”

Steve decides to give in, mostly because he has no desire to get back into his car and do the hour and a half drive back to DC right now. “Okay, fine.”

Bucky grins. “Thanks, grumpy. First, we gotta go up to my room and grab something and then we’re gonna get into your car.”

Frowning, Steve realizes Bucky actually has a plan. “What exactly are we doing?”

Shaking his head, Bucky walks away from him, going to the stairs that lead up to his room. “It’s gonna be a surprise. I ain’t telling you and I don’t care how much you whine.”

They head upstairs and into Bucky’s room.

“Don’t get comfortable, we’re leaving in a few minutes.” Bucky goes right for his bedside table where his phone lives. Bending over the table, Bucky runs his finger over a piece of paper taped to the surface and picks up his phone.

Steve frowns, wondering who on earth Bucky is calling. As far as he knows, Steve’s the only one Bucky calls and he’s standing right here with him.

“Hello, this is Bucky…Hi, Gloria! How are you?”

It should fill Steve with pride that Bucky called somebody and he’s having a conversation with them all by himself, but it just makes Steve’s stomach twist. Bucky has a list of people he calls and Steve only has Bucky.

That…doesn’t sit right with him. For the first time, Steve feels a bit embarrassed about how thoroughly he’s managed to make his entire life revolve around Bucky. He still has no idea how he’s going to change that, but he’s starting to want to. He wants a list of people he can call too.

Steve’s so focused on his own thoughts that he doesn’t bothering trying to recall who ‘Gloria’ is and he doesn’t pay attention to Bucky’s conversation until it’s winding down.

“Yeah, we’re gonna be there in about twenty minutes…Great! Thank you so much! See you soon.” Bucky hangs up the phone and throws Steve a grin. “Okay, just gotta grab my bag, then we’re going.”

Bucky grabs a familiar duffel bag off his bed—it’s the one Steve had packed when they’d first come to the center—and hoists it over his shoulder with his metal hand. “Alright, come on. You’re driving and I’m navigating.”

“Where the hell are we going? And why the hell do you need a whole bag of stuff?” Steve mumbles, feeling even grumpier than before.

Bucky just laughs. “You’ll figure it out in about five minutes.”

When they’re downstairs and passing the reception desk, they say goodbye to Dawn, who tells them to have fun. They reach Steve’s car and Bucky tosses his duffel bag into the back and climbs into the front seat, doing up his seatbelt while Steve keeps glaring at him suspiciously.

“Okay, grumpy, let’s go. We’re losing daylight.”

“It’s barely past two,” Steve grumbles.

As he’s done for most of his life, Bucky ignores Steve’s mood. “Uh huh. Start the car.”

Steve does as he’s told and pulls the car out of the parking lot. He follows Bucky’s directions and they get to the main road where they can either turn right to head to DC or left to go to town. Bucky points his metal hand to the left, so apparently, they’re heading towards town.

When he points this out to Bucky, he just laughs. “Yeah, congratulations, you genius. More specifically, we’re going to Sunshine Diner.”

Steve really isn’t in the mood to be around other people right now. “It’s been a tough day and I’m really not—”

“You ain’t in the mood to be around other people and that’s fine. That’s why you’re gonna park in front of the diner and then you’re gonna stay right where you are.”

Still not understanding, Steve drives them to town and pulls to a stop in front of Sunshine Diner.

Undoing his seatbelt, Bucky grins at him. “I need money. Gimme your wallet.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve pulls out his wallet and tosses it at Bucky, who blows him an air kiss and laughs. “Thanks, you’re a peach. Wait here and don’t move.”

Steve stays where he is and watches Bucky get out and head into the diner. He’s back a few minutes later, holding a large paper bag and a tray containing four drinks.

“What the hell…?”

“Open the door!” Bucky calls out and Steve reaches over to haul the passenger door open for him. “Grab the drink tray, would ya?”

Steve takes the drinks from him and stows them in a safe place. While Bucky’s wedging himself into the car with the large paper bag and throwing Steve his wallet, Steve can’t contain his curiosity and bends over to sip one of the drinks.

It’s a vanilla milkshake.

Smiling, Steve stares at Bucky. “You got us our order to go?”

Bucky grins back. “Yup! We’re gonna eat somewhere special. Start the car.”

Following Bucky’s directions, Steve drives them away from town and out into the vast nothingness that this part of the world is mostly composed of.

“Right there! You see that tree that’s leaning towards the road?”

Steve searches through the few trees that line the endless fields and never-ending line of fences and sees a tree that looks like it’s hanging onto the earth by sheer will and is likely to topple over any second.

“That tree’s been like that for fifty years,” Bucky tells him. “It only looks bent but the roots are real strong. Anyway, once we pass it, we gotta count to fifteen and there’s gonna be a gate.”

Clearly, people out here have never heard of street signs. It’s the weirdest navigation Steve’s ever done, but once they pass the tree, he plays along and joins Bucky as they count to fifteen…and sure enough, he sees a rusty gate on his right.

“There it is! Pull in here.”

It doesn’t even look like there’s a road, but once Steve turns off the main road, he can see the remnants of an old dirt road which has mostly been reclaimed by grass and other plant life.

“Okay, stop. I’m gonna open the gate, you drive through and wait for me. I gotta shut the gate behind me. That’s a real important rule.”

Steve has no idea why somebody would care if a gate in the middle of nowhere were left open. There isn’t anybody or anything around except for the occasional car that zooms past them on the main road. But this all brings up another concern. “Are we allowed to be out here?”

“Oh, yeah. But I ain’t gonna tell you how I know until we get there cause it’ll ruin the surprise. I’ll go open the gate.”

Bucky hops out, hauls open the old gate, which lets out a loud metal squeal. Waving Steve through, Bucky waits until Steve’s car has rattled itself through before he shuts the gate and hops back into the car.

“Okay! Up the hill!” Bucky points into the distance where Steve sees a grassy hill covered in small patches of trees.

Steve carefully follows the overgrown road, clutching the steering wheel as it rattles in his hands and silently grateful that he’d decided to buy a large car instead of one of those tiny city cars. If this is the type of driving Bucky expects him to do from now on, a little city car wouldn’t survive.

He drives them up the hill…

…and as soon as he reaches the top and sees the view, he recognizes the place. “This is where you guys come for your picnics!”

Bucky laughs, sounding very happy. “Yeah! I knew you’d recognize the view!”

Once they get out of the car, Steve stands and stares around himself. “It’s even more beautiful than in the pictures.”

Bucky comes up behind him and slings his metal arm gently around Steve’s shoulder. “I know! Wen always shows me the pictures he takes and I always get upset cause they don’t look as good as real life and I wanted you to see what it really looks like.”

The sun is shining overhead and the blue sky curves above him, stretching as far as Steve can see. He’s never seen so much uninterrupted sky. He’s used to seeing small patches of sky through the spaces between tall skyscrapers. Below the sky are dozens of green, rolling hills. There are a few streaks of grey here and there—probably roads—and a few colorful dots which must be farm houses.

“You see over there?” Bucky points off in the distance and Steve sees a larger group of colorful dots.

“Yeah. Is that town?”

“Yup!”

The other thing Steve notices is how quiet it is. Now that he’s turned the car off and Bucky’s quiet, the silence surrounds him. It’s a bit eerie. Steve’s ears keep straining to hear something and he picks up a few sounds—a chirping bird, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves on the trees, his own breathing—but it’s mostly silent.

“I can’t believe how quiet it is,” he mumbles, his voice sounding too loud.

Bucky laughs. “I know! I love it. I can think and relax. But it must be weird after being in the city, huh?”

Steve makes a face. “Yeah. It’s…eerie.”

Taking his arm off Steve’s shoulder, Bucky goes to the car and brings out his duffel bag. Dropping it to the grass at his feet, he digs through it and pulls out his music player. “Here. Stick one of the listening things—I forgot the name—into your ear and the silence won’t bother you so much.”

Taking Bucky’s music player, Steve turns it on and puts one of the ear buds into his ear. Soft classical music starts playing and it really does help. The music gives Steve’s brain something to focus on and the quiet isn’t so bad. The irony of the situation isn’t lost on him. Bucky had used the music player to feel more comfortable in the city and now Steve’s using it to feel more comfortable in the country.

Bucky’s rummaging through the duffel bag, pulls out a blanket and waves it at Steve. “Here, spread this out. I’m gonna get our food.”

Shaking out the blanket, Steve lays it out and sits down. He can’t remember the last time he’s sat on the grass to eat. And this isn’t just a patch of grass in a city park. There aren’t any people or buildings for miles.

Bucky brings the bag of food and the tray of drinks and sits next to Steve, digging through the bag and pulling out wrapped burgers and tin covered dishes, all bearing the Sunshine Diner logo. “I got us a little bit of everything. Burgers, pasta, chicken wings, everything. And we each get two vanilla shakes.”

Grinning, Steve takes a burger and unwraps it, the classical music in his ear switching to a new song. “This is real nice.”

Bucky shots him a soft smile as he takes a plastic fork out of the bag and pries open one of the pasta dishes. “I’m glad you like your treat. You mind if I say grace before I eat?”

Steve freezes, his burger nearly in his mouth and he hastily lowers it. “Oh. Sure.”

Bucky laughs and gives him a shove. “I didn’t say nothing about you having to do it with me. You go ahead and eat and I’ll say grace and then I’ll eat too. That way, both of us will enjoy our lunch, right?”

Before Steve can feel more awkward about the situation, Bucky reaches into his pocket and takes out his notebook. Flipping it open, he finds the page he wants and lays it down next to him. Lifting his right hand, he presses the tips of his thumb, index finger and middle finger together before he touches his forehead, followed by his stomach, then his left shoulder, followed by his right; making the sign of the cross. The motion is so fluid and it abruptly takes Steve back in time to when he’d seen Bucky do this hundreds of times before and after every single meal they’d eaten together and at church.

This is the first time he’s witnessing Bucky’s re-acquaintance with religion in a physical way and it makes Steve feel a mixture of different emotions: some sad nostalgia, lots of pride at Bucky’s confidence, and a hint of jealousy because this is another thing Bucky has made a part of his life that doesn’t directly involve Steve. That’s Steve’s choice but it still feels strange.

Clasping his hands together, one flesh, the other metal, Bucky glances at the words on the paper next to him and quietly recites words that are as familiar to Steve as breathing. “Bless us, Oh Lord, and these, Your gifts, which we are about to receive from Your bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen.”

Bucky finishes by making the sign of the cross again, and Steve finds his own hand doing the motions with him. He’s barely aware he’s doing it.

The movement must have caught Bucky’s attention because he grins at Steve. “Your muscle memory giving you problems, Rogers?”

Steve laughs. “Yeah. You can take me outta church, but I guess you can’t take all the church outta me, huh?”

Bucky chuckles and digs his fork into his pasta dish, twirling it through strands of spaghetti and delicious smelling meat sauce.

Staring at Bucky, Steve can’t get over how much he’s changed. Six months ago, Bucky had made a fuss if Steve didn’t spoon-feed him his meals and he needed to hear a children’s song every time he got anxious. There’s no trace of that fearful, confused Bucky now. It makes Steve realize that he hasn’t really let himself understand how much Bucky has progressed. He’s seen and heard of the milestones Bucky had conquered but he’d still thought of Bucky as that scared little boy stuck in a man’s body who’d clung to Steve because he didn’t want to take care of himself.

Now Bucky isn’t just standing on his own two feet, but he’s running full steam ahead.

It’s ironic, but everything that Bucky’s done in the last few hours has helped to convince Steve that Bucky really is okay. It hadn’t been Bucky’s reassurances in Dr. Stewart’s office that’s convinced Steve, but it’s all the other things. Calling Sunshine Diner to place their food order. Directing Steve to their picnic location. Saying grace before eating. And most importantly: planning this whole adventure because he’d known that Steve would feel anxious after their conversation and Bucky wanted to make Steve feel better.

“You’re really doing good, huh?” Steve mumbles, staring at him.

Bucky smiles softly, swallowing his mouthful of pasta. “Yeah. I couldn’t have done it without you and I’m always so amazed when I call you in the evening and I’m telling you about the things I’ve spent the day doing. Sometimes I can’t believe it’s really me, but it is.”

“I’m so damn proud of you,” Steve says quietly.

“I know. I’m proud of you too cause helping me these last few months has been real hard. But I’m really okay now.”

Sighing heavily, Steve stares down at his burger, which he still hasn’t started eating. “I’m so used to making you the center of my universe that I don’t know how to stop doing it.”

Reaching over with his metal hand, Bucky grabs Steve’s hand and squeezes it. “I know, but we’re gonna figure it out.”

“I don’t even know how to start.”

“First, you’re gonna eat your lunch and we’re gonna enjoy the fresh air and you’re gonna listen to your music. Then we’re gonna lie down and relax in the sun and we’ll figure out what your first step’s gonna be.”

Relief floods him. “You’re really gonna help me.” It’s not a question.

Bucky shoves him with his metal hand and rolls his eyes. “Of course I am, punk! I’m gonna be with you every step of the way. Now come on, eat your burger before it gets cold and drink your vanilla shake before I drink all four of ‘em. You know I’ll do it.”

Laughing, Steve grabs two of the drinks and sticks them in the grass behind him, safely out of Bucky’s reach. “Don’t you dare try, Barnes.”

* * *

They talk for hours. Once his stomach is full and Steve’s feeling reassured that Bucky will really help him fill the enormous emptiness that his life consists of, he feels a lot better about it. They lie on their backs on the blanket, staring up at the wispy white clouds passing across the blue sky and Steve gives Bucky the other ear bud so they can listen to music while they talk.

Bucky tackles the problem with the same determination he’s always dealt with everything else and he manages to break through every problem Steve’s anxiety thinks up. By the time they’ve talked everything through and made a solid plan, Steve feels much better about everything. Before they go, he slings his arm around Bucky and takes a few pictures of them together, both of them smiling and excited for the future.

By the time they get back to the center, Steve so excited about getting started with his new life that he decides to drive back to DC tonight.

After Bucky gets out of the car at the center, he runs around the car to give Steve a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Gimme a quick call when you get home, okay? I’m gonna wait up for you.”

“Okay.”

Stepping back, Bucky grins at him. “We can do this, Stevie. There ain’t nothing in life we’ve ever failed at when we do it together and this ain’t gonna be no different. Now, get going.”

For the first time in six months, Steve spends the entire drive back to DC feeling excited about tomorrow, rather than dwelling on sadness that he won’t get to see Bucky for a few more days. When he gets home, he calls the center and has Ryan connect him to Bucky’s room. “Hey, Buck. I’m home.”

“Okay. Get plenty of rest cause tomorrow’s gonna be a big day. First, phone call with me. Next, phone call with Sam. Next, food shopping and cooking and then—”

“Then I’m gonna look for a new apartment.”

“And then I’m gonna call you and you’re gonna tell me all about your day.”

Smiling, Steve’s practically vibrating with excitement. “Okay.”

“You can do this, I know you can. Now I’m gonna say my prayers and you’re gonna go to bed.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Steve falls asleep feeling lighter than he has since he came out of the ice.


	23. Chapter 23

During his phone call with Bucky the next morning, they go over Steve’s plan for ‘Day 1 of Steve’s New Life’ again before Bucky sends him off to get started.

As they’d discussed, Steve’s first big task is also one of the hardest. No matter what else happens, he needs to call Sam and apologize for how terrible Steve’s treated him. He’s not expecting Sam to want anything to do with him anymore, but Steve still has to apologize. He owes Sam that much.

It’s not a surprise when Sam doesn’t pick up the phone but he leaves Sam a message.

“Hi, Sam. It’s me. I know you’re still angry with me and that’s understandable. I’m not gonna disrespect you by beating around the bush so I’ll get right to it. I had a tough conversation with Buck yesterday and it turns out that everything you’ve been trying to tell me was the truth.”

He takes a deep breath, his stomach in knots. “I was too stubborn to listen and I was awful to you and I’m truly sorry. Buck finally got my head screwed on right and I’m gonna start living my own life. I understand if you don’t wanna be part of it, but if there’s even a small chance then I promise I’ll do a much better job of being the kind of friend you deserve. But even if you don’t ever wanna talk to me again, I wanted to say I’m sorry for how I treated you. Anyway, that’s all. Have a good day and again, I’m sorry.”

Since he’s not expecting Sam to call him back, he turns on his computer to see if the other part of his ‘Day 1’ plans is ready.

And just like Bucky had promised, there’s an email from the center. It’s from a person Steve doesn’t know, but they say that Bucky had told them Steve would like to see the simple recipes that they teach patients at the center and they’ve attached them to the email.

Grinning, Steve opens them and scrolls through the pages. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to make scrambled eggs or a sandwich, but he thought he’d get overwhelmed just going to a grocery store and having no idea where to even start.

Bucky had told him the recipes all list the ingredients and they’re even grouped together so Steve can buy a few items and make a variety of dishes. It’s exactly what Steve needs.

Printing out some of the recipes he likes, he heads off to the big grocery store to buy ingredients. For the first time in the 21st century, Steve stays away from the plastic wrapped sandwiches and spends time in the vegetable and meat section, buying raw ingredients.

The recipes are a huge help because the variety of food is overwhelming but Steve uses the recipes as his guide to stay on track. If the recipe calls for six chicken thighs, he doesn’t have to get overwhelmed by the dozens of different chicken parts on display. He can just focus on finding the chicken thighs and buying six of them.

When he’s walking to the cash register, Steve thinks that maybe Bucky would like to see a picture of him having finished his shopping. For the last six months, Steve has never sent Bucky a photo of himself. Part of it is a logistical problem, since Bucky doesn’t have a cellphone yet and Steve doesn’t want to bother Wen by sending him photos to show Bucky. But it had never occurred to Steve that Bucky would probably like to see photos on Steve’s phone when he visits him. In fact, it hadn’t even occurred to Steve to take pictures of himself doing things…because he hasn’t been doing anything that’s worthy of a photo.

Stopping before the registers, he puts his full basket down and tries figuring out how to take a picture of himself holding his basket but still include himself in the photo. No matter how he holds his phone, the device refuses to put everything Steve wants into the frame.

He knows he’s getting weird looks from the people around him, but he ignores them. When a woman walks past him, he gets an idea and taps her on the shoulder. “Excuse me?”

She stops and glances at him. “Yes?”

“This might seem a bit strange, but could you take a picture of me with my phone?”

She looks annoyed and Steve hastens to explain. “It’s the first time I’m buying food for cooking and a friend of mine would love to see me holding my basket. He lives a bit far away and I can’t show him in person.”

She smiles. “Oh, sure! Gimme your phone.”

She takes a beautiful picture of him that Steve spends way too long admiring as he stands in the middle of the store. He loves how big his smile is and how his pride over his successful shopping trip can be seen all over his face. He can’t wait to show it to Bucky when he sees him on Tuesday.

When he gets home, he picks the first recipe he wants to try and slowly follows the steps to make himself a home cooked meal for the first time since before he left for the war.

He burns the chicken a bit, his potato chunks are all different sizes and the vegetables don’t look as nice as they do in the photo on the recipe, but it smells delicious. Before he eats, he proudly takes a picture of his plate. It’s just a little past noon and Steve’s already accomplished so many things on ‘Day 1 of Steve’s New Life’!

While he’s eating, his phone rings. Frowning, Steve grabs it, thinking it’s Bucky calling for whatever reason. For the first time, Steve’s first reaction isn’t concern and heart-clenching panic, but just mild curiosity.

But it’s not Bucky. It’s Sam.

His breath catching, Steve stares down at Sam’s name on the display. Anxiety floods him. Maybe Sam’s calling to yell at him? But no, that’s not like Sam. Maybe he called Steve’s number by mistake? Then he realizes Sam will hang up if Steve doesn’t answer the phone and he fumbles to pick up. “Hello? Sam?”

“Hey, buddy.”

“Hi. How—how are you?”

Sam blows out a quiet breath. “I’m fine. I was really worried over a good friend of mine but I think things are gonna get better now.”

Steve frowns. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I’m glad your friend’s alright.”

There’s the sound of Sam’s familiar chuckle. “I meant _you_ , Rogers.”

“Oh. Oh!” Sam had called him a ‘good friend’ and not in the past tense. Hope grows in Steve’s chest. “So are you accepting my apology?”

“Yeah. But I gotta tell you, I’m a little gun shy with you.”

“That’s…understandable. I told you in the message, I understand if you don’t wanna gimme another chance. I really don’t deserve it.”

“Well, you’re a stubborn ass, but I’ve known that for a long time. I thought it over and I decided I’m gonna forgive you and I’m gonna give you one more chance. But only one.”

Steve nods frantically. “That’s all I need, I promise.”

“Steve, I’m serious. I can’t go through this again. If you’re serious about moving forward and making a decent life for yourself, then I’d love to be part of it. But I can’t stand by and watch you slowly destroy yourself without you even realizing it. That hurt. It hurt a lot.”

“I’m sorry. I really am. I’ve been so focused on Buck…but that’s gonna change now and trust me, Barnes will let me know if I’m sliding backwards. He won’t put up with it.”

Sam chuckles. “And he’s the only one you actually listen to. Thank God for James Buchanan Barnes.”

Steve laughs. “I’ve been saying the same thing my entire life, even after I stopped taking that phrase so literally.”

Sam laughs.

Pressing his lips together, Steve wonders if he should let Sam make the first move in their newly rekindled friendship or if would be acceptable for him to jump in. Well, he knows what Bucky would urge him to do and this new life is all about taking control of his own destiny. “So I’m working on cooking decent food for myself and I know I just started, but I’m wondering if you wanna come by for dinner in a few days?”

“I’d love to.”

“What would you like to eat?”

“Anything you make will be great.”

Steve laughs. “I’ll remind you of that when you’re choking down the first mouthful.”

* * *

Steve finishes his day by starting his search for a new apartment. Bucky had made him admit that he’d chosen his current apartment solely based on what Bucky would need. Steve’s own desires hadn’t been part of his decisions at all. Since Bucky won’t be spending any time in his apartment, Steve should get an apartment he really likes.

At first, it’s really hard deciding what he actually wants. Every apartment he’s ever lived in before now has been chosen for him by either circumstances, his former employers, or Bucky’s needs.

Bucky had told him if he finds choosing an apartment overwhelming, then he should focus on the apartment location first and that’ll narrow his options. That’s an idea he’d liked the sound of the second he’d heard Bucky say it and Steve heads off with two bottles of water and his running shoes laced up tight to go for a run around the area and see what he likes.

Exploring DC on foot is actually lots of fun. He deliberately goes down streets he’s never been down and takes the time to look at the apartments he’s passing and decide whether he likes them or not. He stays away from the tourist centers so he won’t have to constantly hide under sunglasses and a hoodie. Hopefully, the locals he’ll live amongst will get used to his presence and leave him alone.

When he finds ones he likes the look of, he takes a picture of them as a reminder for himself and to show Bucky. There’s no reason for him to grab the first apartment he likes and Bucky’s told him to take his time, so that’s what Steve will do.

* * *

“And here’s a picture of that dog I saw a few days ago. The big one that looked like a ball of fluff?”

Bucky eagerly stares at Steve’s phone and grins at the picture of the brown fuzzy dog. “He looks just as funny as you said he does.”

Steve chuckles. “Yeah.” Steve swipes to the next photo, which shows his dinner preparations for Sam’s visit from a few days ago. “This was me making dinner for Sam.”

Bucky peers at the photo. “Oh, I can see the spaghetti box!”

“Yup.” Steve swipes to the next one, showing the set table food as he’d waited for Sam. “And here’s how it all looked before Sam came over—”

“And ate it all up, huh?” Bucky laughs, gently elbowing Steve in the side with his metal arm. Without taking his eyes off the photos Steve’s showing him, Bucky reaches for his vanilla milkshake on the diner table and takes a sip.

As the final weeks of Bucky’s program pass by, Steve’s been encouraged to bring Bucky to town for their visit days and spend the day there. They usually eat at Sunshine Diner or get their order to go and drive to their picnic spot before Steve brings Bucky back to the center.

Steve happily finishes showing Bucky all of the photos he’d taken since their last visit. Even though Bucky’s already heard about Steve’s adventures, he loves seeing the photos. Maybe Bucky’s joy really lies in hearing how excited Steve is to show him the photos, but either way, it makes Steve feel good.

“—and here’s the chocolate chip muffins I made Sam.”

To his surprise, Steve’s really enjoying cooking but most of all, he loves baking. It’s not something that’s familiar to him because they hadn’t been able to afford a lot of the necessary ingredients when growing up. Thankfully, that’s no longer a concern and he loves the process of combining ordinary ingredients—most of which wouldn’t taste good on their own—and turning them into a delicious smelling batter before watching it morph into something great looking and even better smelling while in the oven. Eating the things he bakes is great too, but he loves the process of making them even more.

Bucky sighs dramatically. “They look so delicious. I can’t believe you two ate ‘em all up.”

Steve laughs. “Don’t get too sad, Mister Sweet-Tooth. I have a surprise for you in the car when we’re done eating.”

His face lights up and Bucky wiggles in his seat. “You know I love surprises!”

“I know you do. But we gotta finish eating lunch first.”

Reaching for his abandoned burger, Bucky resumes eating but keeps his eyes on Steve’s phone. Motioning with his metal hand, he gives Steve a shove with his shoulder. “Keep going. I can’t keep looking at those delicious muffins without eating your phone. And I wanna see a picture of your running group friends.”

A few days ago, Sam had invited Steve to join his running group. It’s not great exercise for Steve since the group members all run much slower and for less time than he usually does but that’s not the point.

A few people in the group had recognized him and asked for pictures and autographs, but things had calmed down during his second time with the group and things seem to be going well. It’s fun to chat with people while running. There’s no pressure to figure out what to do with his hands and feet while he’s talking and if he’s tired of talking to somebody, he can always pretend he needs to stop to tie his shoes or stretch and find a different conversation partner when he gets going again. He gets along well with a few people in the group and even though Sam hadn’t had time to go yesterday, Steve had screwed up his courage and gone on his own.

Bucky grins at the picture of Steve with his arms around Sam and one of their running friends. “Oh, is that the woman you were talking to yesterday? The one who has two daughters our age? What was her name? No, don’t tell me. I got it written down.”

Bucky puts his burger down and digs out his notebook from his pocket and flips it open. The notebook’s filled with colorful tabs and some pages are folded in different ways, all things that help Bucky keep track of things.

Steve waits while Bucky carefully finds a specific section of the book and skims his notes. “Ah ha! There it is. Her name’s Susan, right? And her daughters graduated from Georgetown. That’s a college in DC.”

Steve smiles, happy that Bucky’s actually taken the time to write down these little snippets of information that have nothing to do with him. He just does it because he wants to stay involved in Steve’s new life and that means the world to him. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Looking smug, Bucky slides his notebook onto the table, grabs his burger again and takes a big bite as he slings his metal around Steve’s shoulder and looks at his phone again. “Your hair’s a disaster in that photo, Rogers.”

Steve laughs. “Yeah, I ran my hands through it and forgot to make it nice before we took the photo.”

“It’s a good thing I love you anyway,” Bucky grumbles around a mouthful of burger, a smile on his lips.

Jabbing Bucky in the side with his elbow, Steve reaches for a handful of nachos on his plate and munches on them as he scrolls through the rest of the photos.

Once they’re done with the photos, they finish up their lunch and head out of the diner.

“Is it time for my surprise now?” Bucky demands as he’s getting into the passenger seat of Steve’s car.

Steve laughs and reaches into the backseat. Picking up the container he’d put there before leaving DC, he drops it on Bucky’s lap. “There you go. Now you can’t complain that I didn’t bake you anything.”

Bucky tears off the lid and grins when he sees the chocolate brownies filling the container. “You made me brownies!”

“Yup! I used the recipe you gave me but I added in walnuts and these chocolate chunk things I found in the store. They’re bigger than chocolate chips and I figured your sweet tooth will appreciate it.”

Digging out a brownie, Bucky stuffs half of it into his mouth. His smile gets even bigger as he chews. “Oh, these are really good!” Turning to Steve, Bucky grabs his hand with his metal one and shakes it. “Steven Grant Rogers! These are really, really good!”

Pride glowing in his chest, Steve’s smile mirrors Bucky’s. “I’m glad you like ‘em. I really like baking actually.”

“Yeah?” Bucky finishes the first brownie and grabs another one. “Well, you’re good at it! Why do you like it?”

Steve shrugs. “It’s just real neat. When I’m cooking, I ain’t really changing the food too much, you know? A chicken leg’s gonna be a chicken leg no matter what you do to it. But baking’s so neat. You start with all these ingredients that taste gross on their own, like flour and baking powder and raw eggs. Even the cocoa powder don’t taste good on its own. But then you combine them together, stick it in the oven and it becomes this delicious new thing.”

Bucky’s smiling softly at him, his mouth covered in crumbs. “I’m real proud of you. Look at you! You’re doing so good!”

Laughing, Steve relaxes against his seat. “I feel like I’m doing real good.”

“And that’s even better. You want a brownie?”

Steve presses his lips together. “I might have made two batches…and I might have eaten one of the batches before I got here.” Reaching into the backseat again, Steve holds up the second, empty container.

Laughing, Bucky reaches over and ruffles his hair. “Punk! I’ll try not to be offended that you ate half of my present, Rogers. But really, how can you help yourself if they taste this good?” Brushing crumbs off his hand, Bucky gestures at the steering wheel. “You wanna start the car? I wanna show you something neat.”

“Sure.”

Following Bucky’s directions, Steve heads to the small, residential part of town that has a cluster of houses.

“You like these houses, Stevie?”

There’s not much to like or dislike about them, but Steve can hear the note of nervousness in Bucky’s voice. “Sure! They look real nice.”

“Well…I’m probably gonna be living in one of ‘em in a few weeks.”

His eyebrows rising, Steve glances at Bucky and smiles. “Really? That’s great!”

“Uh huh. I talked to Alisha about it yesterday but I wanted to show you before I told you about it. A lot these houses have a basement that’s practically a full apartment and they let people live in ‘em and rent ‘em.”

Steve can hear the hesitation in Bucky’s voice and he thinks he knows what his problem is. “Buck, you don’t gotta worry about money. You tell me who to send the rent to and I’ll get it done.”

Bucky makes a face. “I know and believe me, I love you for that. But it don’t sit right with me. The job classes I’ve been doing are so damn hard and it’s overwhelming. I’m not doing as good at them as I wanna and—”

“And nothing. What do you always tell me? Take your time. You don’t gotta find a job right away. First, you should focus on finding a place to live and then you can worry about work. The center’s gonna help you figure out which house you can live in, right?”

“Yeah. We’re gonna start doing phone calls next week. But not working don’t sit right with me.”

It feels weird that Steve’s sitting here, discussing Bucky’s desire to work…while he himself hasn’t even thought about finding a job. That’s definitely something he should spend more time thinking about. “I’ll tell you what.”

Bucky glances at him as he picks up another brownie. “What?”

“How about we both focus on finding great places for us to live and then we’ll focus on finding work for ourselves, okay? We’ll do it together, step by step.”

Smiling softly, Bucky fiddles with the brownie. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, Rogers?”

“Yeah?”

“Seeing how we’re gonna do these things together, there’s something else I wanna do.”

“Name it.”

Bucky gestures with his hand at Steve’s phone, that’s currently lying on the dashboard. “I wanna get a phone for myself. It wouldn’t feel right to be using somebody else’s phone when I’m living in one of these houses. Besides, I’m tired of only seeing your photos when I see you.”

Grinning, Steve nods. “Okay, we’ll work on that. But only on one condition.”

“What?”

“If you feel comfortable taking photos and sending them to me, then I wanna see lots of pictures of you.”

Bucky’s smile gets bigger. “Deal.”

* * *

Getting Bucky a cellphone is more difficult than Steve thought it would be. At first, he thought he’d go and find Bucky a nice phone and bring it to him. But Bucky had wanted to be involved so that’s how they’ll do it.

Bucky has very clear ideas of what he does and doesn’t want out of a phone. He needs big buttons that are easy to press. Using his right hand would be fine for most phones, but the touchscreen of Steve’s phone doesn’t recognize Bucky’s metal fingers and that doesn’t sit right with either of them. Bucky’s getting more and more proficient with his metal hand, but detailed work is still difficult. As a result, getting a phone with large buttons would be the best choice.

Bucky also wants a big display because he gets a headache if he has to read small text. Beyond that, he wants to be able to take photos to send to people, make phone calls and do a small amount of texting.

“I ain’t gonna be writing long letters on it,” Bucky tells him over the phone as they’re brainstorming ideas. “I don’t mind writing by hand and I can read handwritten things fine, but there’s something about the typed letters that give me a headache if I have to read ‘em for too long.”

That’s probably due to Bucky’s lack of familiarity with typed text, but it’s not something they have to force Bucky to get accustomed to. They still read books together on the phone sometimes and Bucky’s started listening to audio books that Wen helps him put on his music player and that fulfills his need to read books. Wen’s gotten him an audio version of the Bible and apparently, Bucky spends a lot of time listening to it. He’s never discussed it with Steve, but that’s fine.

“I can write short messages on the phone and I can read short messages from you, but I don’t wanna do long things on it.”

Steve’s on his computer while they talk, his phone lying on the mattress next to him. He has trouble finding any good options until he decides to search for phones that are suitable for seniors. That’s a detail he won’t tell Bucky, but the options are good.

“Hey, I found some good ones. There’s one I really like. Real big display, big buttons and it takes pictures. You snap it shut and put it in your pocket when you’re done using it. Kinda reminds me of a pocket watch.” He also loves the name of this phone and he knows Bucky will love it too, but he decides to save that detail until the end of the conversation because he knows Bucky will need a boost after a lot of technology talk.

“And it’s easy to use? I can’t fling things left, right and center like you do on yours. My head would explode.”

Steve smiles. “No, it’s fine. There’s no flinging cause it ain’t a touchscreen. You remember what that is?”

“Oh, yeah. I don’t want one of those.”

“No, this one ain’t got one. It’s just got buttons, I promise. And if you press a button, it’ll ask you questions and you use the buttons to answer the questions.”

Bucky sighs, sounding anxious. “I don’t want it asking me questions.”

“They’re simple questions, don’t worry. I’ll go buy you some of ‘em and you can decide which one you like.”

“That’s a waste of money,” Bucky grouses. Steve can practically hear the frown on his face.

Steve struggles not to laugh. He knows being around new technology makes Bucky anxious. “I’ll take the ones you don’t want back to the store and I’ll get my money back, don’t worry.”

Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “And you’ll show me how to use it?”

“Of course.”

“And you’ll write down all the steps in my notebook in case I forget?”

“Obviously. Jerk.”

“Okay.”

Now it’s time for his little surprise. “Guess what the phone’s called?”

“How the hell would I know what the damn phone’s called?”

Steve struggles not to burst out laughing. “Jitterbug!”

“What?! Are you trying to be funny?”

Laughing, Steve nods, despite Bucky not being able to see him. “I ain’t joking! The phone’s called a Jitterbug. It’s like the phone was created just for you, Barnes. You can even call it a sign from God, if you wanna.”

Steve knows the name was probably chosen because the phone’s designed for seniors who would have been born around the same time he and Bucky were, but it’s very ironic that the name of a 21st century phone is based on a dance that Bucky had spent years doing in the 20th century. The phone neatly combines their pasts and presents and that’ll hopefully make Bucky feel more confident about using it.

For the first time in the conversation, Bucky laughs. “Oh, I’m definitely calling it that! Christ, I can’t believe it! You’re gonna buy me a Jitterbug phone!”

“Yeah! And you can use it to take pictures and see my pictures and call me whenever you want.”

Bucky’s quiet for a moment. Then: “Can you bring it to me tomorrow?”

Steve chuckles, happy that Bucky’s so enthusiastic. “Sure. I’ll grab it in the morning and drive it over.”

“Well…only if you’ve got the time. But…I’m going to the ranch the day after tomorrow and you remember I told you I’m gonna help tack up?”

Steve had learned that ‘tacking up’ means putting the saddles and bridles on the horses, which is something Bucky helps with for other members of the group who aren’t strong enough or tall enough to easily saddle their own horses. The staff at the ranch have noticed Bucky’s enthusiasm for working around the horses and have been letting him help out with some tasks. “Yeah, I remember. That’s real exciting! So you’re gonna take a picture of you tacking up?”

“Yeah! Oh, I’m gonna take lots of photos for you. I’ll brush Nando real nice so he’s looking good in the photos. I don’t know if I can manage taking photos while we’re riding, but I’ll try.”

Steve laughs. “Just don’t drop your new phone, Barnes.”

Bucky chuckles. “I won’t. I don’t need two hands to ride no more, remember? Even when I’m galloping, I hold the reins all proper, just with one hand. My right hand don’t do nothing, so it can take photos of Nando’s ears and everything we’re seeing.”

And that joy in Bucky’s voice means Steve’s looking forward to his 3 hour round trip drive tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jitterbug phones are a [real thing](https://jitterbugdirect.com/phones.aspx)! Just don't tell Bucky that they're meant for seniors...


	24. Chapter 24

A week later, Steve finally finds an apartment for himself. It’s small and located in a nice neighborhood. It hadn’t come furnished, but that’s okay. Buying furniture for himself is just another thing he needs to learn how to do.

Sam comes with him when Steve promises to pay him back with two homemade apple pies and he provides snarky commentary and helpful suggestions throughout the day. They take lots of photos of themselves sitting on different armchairs and leaning against drawers and other pieces of furniture and Steve sends the best ones to Bucky’s new cellphone.

The best part is that Bucky sends back a photo in reply, a close-up of his face with a huge grin and his metal hand giving a thumbs up.

Steve takes a million photos of his new apartment once everything is set up and sends them to Bucky and to his amusement, Bucky’s replies are just strings of gibberish due to typing too quickly, but his pride for Steve’s accomplishment is clear.

Following Sam’s suggestion, Steve invites his running group over for a communal dinner where everybody brings something to eat. It’s a lot of fun and Steve really enjoys having his friends in his own apartment. All of them know who Bucky is and are happy to pose for pictures throughout the evening, which Steve sends to Bucky. Sam stays after everyone’s left to help Steve clean up and in payment, he’s allowed to take the remainders of Steve’s cheesecake home.

Once he’s said goodbye to Sam, Steve collapses on his couch and calls Bucky’s cellphone.

“Hey, Stevie! Is the party over?”

Steve smiles. “Yep. Sam helped me clean up and I let him take home the leftover cheesecake.”

Bucky chuckles. “I’ll bet he thinks he got the better end of that deal.”

A little heat rises in his cheeks as Steve blushes. “Thanks, Buck. It did taste real good, but I’m biased.”

“So am I, but everybody else liked it too, didn’t they?”

“That’s true.” Steve stifles a yawn. The day had been a lot of fun, but he’s tired. Having a life is certainly more tiring than sitting around all day, but it’s worth it. “So you’re going to the rodeo tomorrow?”

Bucky’s church had asked for volunteers to help out at the annual rodeo show that the town puts on, which is attended by people from the neighboring area. Always happy to spend more time around horses, Bucky had put himself forward as a volunteer. He’s going to be working with somebody from his church who has spent decades volunteering at the rodeo and will help train Bucky in how to deal with the high-strung horses that participate in the rodeo. Initially, Steve had been worried about it, but Bucky seems confident about his skills.

“Yeah. I’m real excited! You know I was worried about all the noise, but Father Ray says I can have my music player with me and I’ll be spending most of my time around the horses, helping Don. I’ll be helping bring horses to drink water, fixing leg wraps and helping tack up and rub horses down when they’re done their events. I can watch some of the events from where the horses stay and it won’t be as loud.”

“But don’t hesitate to call the center for someone to pick you up if it gets too overwhelming, okay?” Steve reminds him. “You don’t gotta tough it out if you ain’t having a good time. Dawn said she’ll send somebody to pick you up if things ain’t going well.”

Bucky sighs softly. “I know. I’ll see how it goes. I’m real excited about it, but kinda nervous too.”

“You’re gonna do great! You can take photos and ride a horse at the same time, Barnes. There ain’t nothing you can’t do. But if your head ain’t enjoying being at the show, then you don’t gotta stay.”

“Okay. Hey?”

Steve closes his eyes, already half asleep. “Hmm?”

“I’m real proud of us.”

Smiling, Steve sinks further into the couch. “I am too. You have fun tomorrow but don’t push yourself too hard. And don’t get kicked.”

Bucky chuckles. “I’ll be fine. Now, go to bed, Rogers. You sound like you’re gonna fall asleep.”

“Oh, I’m halfway there. Have fun tomorrow.”

“I will.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more. Good night.”

* * *

Over the next two days, Steve’s phone is constantly receiving photos as Bucky takes pictures of everything at the rodeo. Most of the photos are of different horses Bucky helps take care of and there’s an old man—apparently Don—in many of the photos.

The first picture he sees of Bucky comes around noon, and to Steve’s surprise, Bucky’s wearing a cowboy hat in it. He sends Steve a short message, telling him that Don gave him the hat as a present.

During their phone call on the evening of the first day, Bucky gushes about the cowboy hat. “Don said every cowboy needs a decent hat and since I do a good job around the horses, he said I’ve earned the right to wear one. It’s one of his old ones and it’s real nice. It’s so soft!”

At the start of the rodeo, Father Ray and the other volunteers had prayed together for the animals and people who would participate in the rodeo. Bucky had managed to watch a few of the events and he’d especially enjoyed watching the trick riders perform in between events—“They were standing _on top_ of the horses, Steve! And they hung on the _side_ of the horses and stretched out their arms! They were only hanging on with one foot in a stirrup! And they were so graceful, they made it look so easy!”—but the noise had started to bother him after a while. Luckily, once he’d turned his music player on and gone back to spend time with the horses, he’d felt better.

Things had gone very well and Steve can’t stop smiling as Bucky talks about what he’d seen and learned for hours.

* * *

The day of Bucky’s graduation from the program finally arrives. Steve has had the day circled on his calendar for ages but he’s used to the date being in the distant future. It’s a shock when Bucky’s remaining time in the program can be counted in weeks instead of months, and then just days instead of weeks.

Steve remembers how every single day had dragged so painfully slowly when he hadn’t been living his own life. Ever since he’s made a bigger effort to keep busy, time has passed much faster. He’s started attending art classes and he’s narrowing down possible options for jobs, but he’s happy to put everything on hold to drive to Virginia and be with Bucky for his graduation day.

In the lead up to the day, Steve thinks about what he wants to get Bucky as a graduation present. It needs to be something that Bucky can use and it should signify the independence he’d achieved. Steve remembers how much Bucky loves the wristwatch Wen had given him and the cowboy hat Don had given him, which gives him an idea. Getting the present together takes a bit of time, but Steve knows Bucky will love it and it’s all ready to go by the time Steve reaches that circled day on the calendar.

Bucky’s graduation isn’t a very big affair. Patients start and finish the program at random times, but Bucky’s care team puts together a little celebration for him.

Alisha had contacted Steve and asked him if he wanted to contribute something for lunch and Steve jumped at the chance to bake Bucky a cake as an additional present. Figuring out how to ice the cake had been a near disaster and his piped letters on top of the cake are a little shaky, but he knows it tastes good and that Bucky will care more about the cake itself than the quality of Steve’s decorating.

Driving the cake to Virginia is nerve-wracking and the normal hour and a half drive takes Steve two hours because he drives much slower than normally. But the cake gets there in one piece and he refuses to let Bucky see what’s in the container as he carefully brings it to the kitchen for them to store in the fridge.

Bucky’s care team and the kitchen staff have all contributed food, which leaves them with a mountain of delicious food to enjoy as they celebrate Bucky’s achievements. Every member of Bucky’s care team stops by to wish him well and have a bite to eat. Some only have time to stay for a few minutes but some—like Wen—stay for the entire time.

As Steve looks around at all the familiar faces,—Alisha, Wen, Dr. Joshua, Dr. Stewart, Bucky’s physical therapist and his speech therapist—Steve marvels at how far he and Bucky have come with these wonderful people’s help.

When Steve had brought Bucky to the center six months ago, he’d been a scared and confused child stuck in a man’s body, suffering from seizures, stuttering his way through most conversations and his metal arm had been a dead weight that hung off his left shoulder. He’d relied on Steve for everything—eating, dressing, bathing—and he’d clung to Steve twenty-four hours a day, even going with Steve when he went to use the bathroom.

Now, Bucky’s happy and healthy. As he sits at the table, eating lunch and holding one utensil in each hand, he’s smiling and talking to Dr. Stewart and Wen about the rodeo he’d attended.

Before they’re done eating, Alisha asks Steve if he wants to grab his cake.

“Oh, sure.” Standing up, Steve heads into the kitchen with Alisha at his heels and pulls his cake out of the fridge. He’s sure Alisha’s following him because she wants to talk to him privately, but Steve’s more concerned about his cake. Prying open the lid of the container, he carefully assesses the frosting and it’s a relief when the cake still looks as good as it did when he’d left DC.

“So, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“You know I didn’t need to come help you with the cake.”

Steve grins. “Yeah, I figured.”

Alisha leans against the counter and smiles at him. “I know today is mostly about Bucky, but I wanted to congratulate you too.”

Smiling, Steve lowers the lid of his cake box. “Thank you. I won’t pretend that it hasn’t been hard but…”

“But you stuck with the plan, just like you promised you would. I won’t discount the work Bucky’s done because he’s worked very hard, but there were many times when his future depended on your attitude and you always pushed for what he needed.”

“Even when it wasn’t what he wanted.”

Alisha squeezes his hand. “I know how hard that was. I know how heartbreaking it was to let Bucky sleep alone that first time, never mind when we sent you home and you had to leave Bucky here and only see him every few days.”

It all seems ages ago. Steve’s gotten so accustomed to seeing Bucky on Tuesdays and Fridays and talking to him on the phone twice a day that he doesn’t really miss being around Bucky twenty-four hours a day. It’s wonderful when they do get to see each other, but Steve no longer feels panicked or miserable about leaving Bucky on his own.

“Whenever Bucky made a fuss, like when he refused to let you sleep in your own room or he didn’t want to eat on his own or use his metal arm, you always persevered. And that amazing, independent ray of sunshine out there is a direct result of that strength, Steve. Never forget that.”

He really does feel proud of himself. It’s been a long, hard road but just like Alisha had promised him, it’s all been worth it and it’ll continue being worth it. “Thank you, Alisha. You guys have all been amazing and Bucky and I are gonna be grateful to you for the rest of our lives.”

She smiles softly. “We’re a team for life. You, Bucky, me and everybody else here. If Bucky needs any support either tomorrow or ten years from now, we’re here for him.”

Steve presses his lips together, overwhelmed by her kindness. “That means the world to both of us. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, grab that delicious cake and let’s dig into it. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.”

* * *

Bucky loves the cake as much as Steve had thought he would. Before cutting it into, Bucky insists on taking photos of it so he can show people at church. “I can’t believe you made this beautiful cake for me! It looks fantastic!”

Smiling, Steve watches Bucky carefully taking photos of the cake as it sits on a big plate. “You earned it.”

Thankfully, the cake is just as tasty as Steve had hoped it would be. They polish off most of it and wrap up the rest—along with all the leftover food—for Bucky to take to his new home so he doesn’t have to worry about getting food for a few days.

When everything’s packed up, Bucky stands up and asks if he can give a short speech. He’s still glowing with pride, but Steve can see the hint of nervousness hidden behind his smile.

“I wanted to thank all of you for everything you’ve done for me in the last six months. When I came here, I know I wasn’t a very functional human being. I was sick and confused and it’s been a long road. I know I haven’t always been a ball of sunshine and I’ve had my bad days...I yelled at some of you more than others—” he shoots Wen, Dr. Stewart and his physical therapist apologetic looks and everybody chuckles. “—but I know you always had my best interests at heart. It’s been real tough, but I’m so happy with how far I’ve come. I stopped being able to live my own life when I left for the war and you’ve all given me my life back.”

Bucky takes a shaky breath. “Saying ‘thank you’ ain’t good enough, but it’s all I’ve got. I just want all of you to know that everything I do for the rest of my life will be thanks to all the work you’ve done.”

Steve joins in when everybody else claps and cheers for Bucky, pride glowing in his chest.

They spend a while saying goodbye to everybody with Bucky being reminded by everyone that his care team is just a phone call away if he ever needs help. Eventually, Steve and Bucky go upstairs to grab Bucky’s bags from his room. Bucky doesn’t want to dwell in his room for long because he doesn’t want to get emotional when he still has a hard day ahead of him. Shutting the door behind them, they head downstairs with Bucky holding his bags in one hand and his cowboy hat in the other. His smile is brave but sad as he gives the receptionist, Dawn, his key fob and says goodbye to her.

Steve watches Bucky take a deep breath as he turns away from the desk.

“Ready, Barnes?”

Bucky’s smile is still a bit shaky. “You know I thank God every single day that I have you, right?”

Steve chuckles. “You better. Putting up with you is a nightmare. Honestly, I don’t know why I bother.”

Laughing, Bucky gives him a shove and heads for the doors. “Come on, Rogers. The next phase of my life is waiting.”

Letting Bucky lead the way, Steve follows him out to the parking lot and they get into Steve’s car for the drive to town. As they’d discussed, Steve will be staying with Bucky for a few days, just to help him get settled.

Following Bucky’s directions, Steve drives him to his new home; one of the small houses they’d stared at during their previous visit to this part of town.

Bucky takes a deep breath. “I’ll go get the keys, you wait.”

“Sure, Buck.”

Bucky gets out and Steve sees him steel himself before he jogs up the steps of the house and rings the doorbell. Somebody inside the house must call out for him to enter because Bucky tries the door and it swings wide open.

Steve laughs. “God damn country life. Jesus.”

Bucky shoots him an amused smile with raised eyebrows and Steve gives him two thumbs up before he disappears inside.

Once Bucky’s gone, Steve amuses himself by pulling out his phone. Sam’s texted him, asking him how things are going and complaining about a mess that was left in one of his group session rooms from a party held the day before. Susan—one of his friends from his running group—has also texted him, having sent him a picture of a woman holding one of those small dogs that’s wearing a top hat and seems to be trying to look like Abe Lincoln. Steve chuckles and tells Susan that clearly, the dog is Lincoln reincarnated and asks her if she was properly respectful to it when she saw it. He also replies to Sam, sending a string of crying faces to express his sympathy for Sam’s cleaning efforts before telling him that Bucky’s party had gone well and they’re at Bucky’s new home.

A few minutes later, the door of the house swings open and Bucky comes back out, looking relieved. He holds up a small key before he reaches the car.

Opening Steve’s door, he shows him the key. “Got it. Margaret’s real nice.”

“Did she get the checks I sent her?”

“Yeah. She offered me lunch but I told her I was stuffed already.”

Steve chuckles. “If she were offering dessert first, you’d have pretended you’re starving.”

“True, but I’ve still got a big piece of Steve Rogers cake waiting for me, so I ain’t too sad about it.”

Helping Bucky gather his bags and his own bag, Steve follows him to the steps that lead down to the basement suite and waits for Bucky to unlock the door before they head inside.

It’s…not the nicest looking apartment, but it’ll do for now. Bucky had taken photos and sent them to Steve when he’d looked at the place with Wen a few days ago. He hadn’t been overly enthusiastic about it, but it’s a good stepping stone.

Bucky makes a face as he looks around. “I don’t like not having big windows, but I can leave the door open when I’m home.”

Steve squeezes his hand reassuringly. “You ain’t stuck here. If you find a better place, you just tell Margaret and then you move. Think of this as just a temporary place where you’re gonna stay until you figure out the next step.”

Sighing softly, Bucky nods. He still looks nervous and Steve decides to keep him moving. “Come on, Barnes. Let’s get you unpacked and figure out what we gotta buy for you.”

Heading to the small bedroom, Steve tosses Bucky’s bags on the bed. Steve had brought Bucky another bag from DC, full of hangers, more clothes, toiletries and cooking utensils that Bucky had said his new kitchen didn’t have.

They work together with Steve letting Bucky decide where he wants different things. One of the first things that finds its new place is Bucky’s cowboy hat, which is carefully hung on a peg by the front door. The biggest decision is where to put the framed photos that Steve had drawn for Bucky all those months ago.

“I wanna put some of ‘em on that small table by the couch. I ain’t gonna watch the television, but that’s probably where I’ll sit when I ain’t in the kitchen or in bed.” He pulls out the sketch of Steve from the pile. “This one’s gotta go on my bedside table so I can see it when I wake up. I don’t really mind where you put the others, just put ‘em where I can see ‘em.”

Steve smiles softly, touched by Bucky’s words. “You know I can draw you new sketches whenever you want, right? My hands ain’t gonna suddenly run out of sketching power.”

Bucky grins. “That’d be nice, thanks. I’ll let you know. But I love the sketch of you, so that one’s staying on my bedside table.”

As Bucky’s carefully setting up the framed picture on the small table, Steve can see he’s still nervous.

“Buck, it’s gonna be okay. I’ll stay as long as you need me to, you know that. Or you wanna stay at the motel until you find a place you like better?”

Bucky sighs and takes his hands off the sketch as he turns to stare at Steve. He spends way too long staring at Steve and it’s a little worrying.

Frowning, Steve steps up to him and grabs Bucky’s face with both hands, rubbing his cheeks with his thumbs. “Hey. What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Making a face, Bucky gently pulls Steve’s hands off his face and keeps holding one of Steve’s hands with his metal hand as he pulls him out of the bedroom and to the couch.

Steve’s starting to feel anxious. It seems whatever’s weighing on Bucky’s mind is something serious and Steve’s dreading what he’ll say.

Once they’re sitting, Bucky takes a deep breath, as if he’s steeling himself to say something difficult. “I—Stevie, can I just blurt it out? I don’t know how to lead up to it and I’ll start stuttering.”

Steve chuckles. “When do we ever beat around the bush with each other? Just spit it out and we’ll go from there.”

Bucky seems to take him literally, because after taking a deep breath, he blurts out: “Do you still love me?”

Blinking, Steve stares at him. “Of course I do. I tell you every day, don’t I?”

“No. Not…” Bucky scrubs his hands through his hair and takes several calming breaths, probably counting to himself. “Not…like that. I remember you told me months ago that you loved me in a…in a different way than friends usually do. I’m just wondering if you still do.”

Steve leans back on the couch, chewing on his lip as that anxiety comes back. Asking him if his feelings for Bucky will ever change is like asking him if he’s considering stopping breathing one day, but it’s worrying that Bucky’s bringing this up out of the blue. “Yeah…but that ain’t got nothing to do with our friendship. My feelings for you ain’t changed, but I’ve never made things awkward, have I? I told you that nothing would change and it hasn’t. If you’re uncomfortable, then…then I really don’t know what to say about that.”

Bucky lets out a choked laugh. “No. No, I ain’t…uncomfortable. I—how would you feel if I felt the same way?”

Because Steve’s not thinking clearly, he says the first thing that pops into his head. “You mean, you love yourself as much as I do? Well, that’s good.”

Sighing heavily, Bucky gives him a look that he’s given Steve a lot over the course of their lives. It’s his ‘Steve Rogers, you’re an idiot and I don’t know how I put up with you’ look. “No, you twit. I mean…I love you as more than a friend too.”

Steve’s breath catches. They’re words he’s been wanting Bucky to say since he was a teenager. But the suddenness of the situation is making Steve wary. “Are you…sure?”

Bucky nods, looking down at his knees. “Yeah. At first, I wasn’t sure. My head was all over the place—well, you know that—and I was feeling a lot of things that eventually changed. I used to feel so anxious about the idea of eating on my own, right? And that panic went away and I realized it was just my head being weird cause of the brain trauma. So I didn’t…”

Bucky’s voice fades away, but Steve can tell he’s just needing a bit of time to keep putting his words together and he waits.

“My feelings for you have always been real strong. They never really changed, but I didn’t know what they meant. I knew I loved you like a brother and a friend and you were the most important person in my life. But I had no idea if I loved you in a different way. I also didn’t know if my brain would just suddenly change its mind one day. That’s why I didn’t say nothing earlier. I wanted to give myself and my brain time to figure things out.”

“What your brain telling you these days?”

“It’s telling me that I love you. Not just as a friend, but deeper than that.”

A smile spreads over Steve’s face, but he presses his lips together and sternly reminds himself to calm down. Just because Bucky has these feelings doesn’t mean he’s ready to do anything about them. It also doesn’t mean he actually wants to do anything about them. “So…what are you thinking?”

Bucky’s gaze lifts from his knees and he gives Steve a soft smile. “I’m thinking I’d really like to kiss you. But only if you want that too.”

Steve’s heart skips a beat and he lets his smile take over his face. “I’d really like that.”

“Yeah?”

There’s a hint of shyness in Bucky’s voice that Steve’s not used to. Twisting on the couch, he looks at Bucky. “But first, I wanna hug you. It’s been a couple of hours since my last hug and that ain’t right.”

A relieve smile spreads over Bucky’s face. “Get over here, Rogers.”

Sliding closer to Bucky, Steve wraps his arms around Bucky, feeling both of Bucky’s arm tightly press against his back. He presses his face into Bucky’s neck and feels Bucky doing the same thing to him, his breath warming Steve’s neck.

“We’re gonna be fine, Buck,” Steve whispers against Bucky’s skin and rubs his back. “Nothing’s gotta change between us if you ain’t comfortable with it.”

“I do want things to change. But I’m worried I’ll mess things up.”

Releasing Bucky, Steve presses his forehead against Bucky’s and wraps his hands around the back of Bucky’s neck, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs. “This ain’t a test you gotta pass. It’s just me. If we hit a bump in the road, we dust each other off and keep right on going, don’t we? It’s what we’ve done our entire lives. This ain’t gonna be different. But if you ain’t ready, that’s fine.”

“I’m nervous,” Bucky mumbles.

“Me too. But I’m happy too.”

A small smile tugs on the corners of Bucky’s lips. “I’m happy too. But I’m worried I ain’t gonna make you happy.”

“Impossible. You’re the most important person in my life. You’ve always made me happy, just by being yourself. I promise, the only thing that’ll change between us if we wanna take things further is that there’s gonna be lots of kissing in our future. Nothing else will change.”

Taking a deep breath, Bucky seems to be bracing himself before he gently puts his hands on Steve’s cheeks—one hand warm and the other cold—and tilts his head in Steve’s grasp and gently presses his lips to Steve’s in a soft, shaky kiss.

“See?” Steve whispers. “Nothing’s changed.”

Bucky hasn’t pulled back far and they’re still breathing the same air, making it very easy for Steve to lift his chin a little and press an equally soft kiss to Bucky’s lips.

Smiling, Bucky lets out a huff of laughter. “Still the same.” His nerves seem to be settling and Bucky kisses Steve a little firmer this time, his lips lingering against Steve’s.

It feels so wonderful that Steve’s sure he’s melting into the couch as he gently presses his lips against Bucky’s, kissing him back.

Bucky makes a soft sound in his throat and his hands tighten on Steve’s face as their kisses grow more confident. It’s slow and soft and absolutely perfect.

“I’m really liking how my first kisses are going,” Bucky mumbles.

Smiling against his lips, Steve kisses him again. “These better end up at the top of your favorite kisses list, Barnes. Otherwise, I’m gonna be offended.”

Bucky chuckles. “Seeing how these are the only kisses on my entire kissing list, they’re at the top by default anyway.”

Startled, Steve pulls back and stares at him. “Are you serious?!”

Nodding, Bucky shrugs and looks a bit embarrassed. “Yeah. I might’ve gone on a lot of dates back in the day, but I was always kinda stuck on this one fella in particular. I didn’t wanna go round kissing other people.”

Chuckling, Steve shakes his head and goes back to kissing him before pulling back. “Who would’ve ever thought that I’ve kissed more people than you?”

“That stupid secretary twit doesn’t count. She jumped on you and practically forced herself on you.”

“Yeah, but I definitely kissed Peggy. Oh, and Natasha kissed me too, although that wasn’t a real kiss.”

Bucky grins and rubs his nose against Steve’s. “I really don’t care who you’ve kissed before as long as you’re enjoying kissing me now.”

“Oh, these are definitely my favorite kisses of all time. They’re gonna stay at the top of my list for eternity.”

Bucky’s smile is radiant. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. But just in case, let’s keep kissing so we fill up every single slot on my list.”

“Jesus, the things you make me do, Rogers. I don’t know how I put up with you.”

Steve laughs. “Let me remind you exactly why you put up with me, Barnes.” Tightening his grip on Bucky’s face, Steve kisses him hard, muffling Bucky’s laughter.


	25. Chapter 25

After spending ages kissing on the couch, they finally pull apart and decide to keep setting up Bucky’s apartment and go out for a walk to get groceries. As Steve had promised him, absolutely nothing changes as a result of their confessions and their kissing.

Before they go, Steve discreetly slips Bucky’s present into his pocket, knowing he’ll have the perfect opportunity to give it to him.

They walk around town and Steve is very proud of Bucky when he recognizes many of the people he meets. Even if he doesn’t remember their names, the people seem to understand and say their name as they’re greeting Bucky, while Steve gets introduced as Bucky’s friend. Thankfully, nobody seems to recognize him and it’s relaxing to walk around the familiar town streets.

When they’re ready to head home, they stop at the small general store to buy groceries. It’s the place Steve bought hundreds of plastic wrapped sandwiches while living here and while he’s not too fond of the place, Bucky loves it. He’s familiar with most of the employees and Steve knows Wen brought him here many times to increase Bucky’s comfort with the store layout and the people working there. Bucky brought a shopping list with him and Steve follows along, carrying the basket while Bucky finds what he needs. Before they go to the cash register, Bucky pulls out a wad of bills from his pocket, in preparation for paying, which is the perfect opportunity for Steve to give Bucky his present.

“Hang on a sec, Buck,” Steve says, putting down the shopping basket and reaching into his jacket pocket. “I got you a present and now’s a good time to give it to you.”

Bucky grins. “Another present? You already baked me that cake.”

“Is there a limit to how many presents I’m allowed to give you?”

Snorting a laugh, Bucky shakes his head, looking excited. “No, thank God. What is it?”

Steve pulls out a brown leather wallet and hands it to Bucky. “Here. If you’re gonna be paying for things on your own again, you gotta have a wallet to keep your cash in, don’t you?”

Bucky’s eyes widen and a smile spreads over his face as he takes the wallet and rubs it between his fingers. “Oh, it’s beautiful! It’s so soft.”

“Open it and see if you like the inside too.”

Steve watches Bucky’s face as he flips it open and he knows the moment Bucky sees the photo Steve had printed out and slid into the plastic covered section of the wallet.

“You put a picture of us!”

“Yep. You recognize it?”

Bucky nods, his smile soft. “Yeah. This was when we went for our first picnic on the hill together, ain’t it?”

“Yeah. We both felt real good when we took that picture and that’s why I wanted to put that one in there. I put the same one in my wallet.” Steve takes out his own wallet and opens it to show Bucky an identical picture inside it. “Whenever either of us have any doubts on whether we can do this or not, we can look at that picture and that’s proof we’ve always figured things out, right?”

Grinning, Bucky nods, rubbing his metal thumb over the picture as he stares at it. “Thank you, Stevie. This really means a lot to me.”

Steve squeezes Bucky’s arm. “You’re welcome. Now, come on. Get your money into the wallet and go pay with your brand new wallet.”

Still smiling, Bucky carefully slides his bills into the wallet and drops a few coins into the little coin pocket. Flipping it closed, he marches off to the cash registers, a smile on his face.

Being outside and getting the wallet seem to have lifted Bucky’s spirits about his apartment and he doesn’t seem as grumpy about the lack of windows by the time they get back. They put together dinner using the leftovers from Bucky’s party and polish off all of Steve’s cake. After they’ve showered and brushed their teeth, it’s time for bed…and that presents a dilemma for Steve.

While they’ve shared a bed hundreds of times in the past, Steve knows that’s one of the few things that might be different now that they’ve confessed their feelings for each other and he doesn’t want Bucky feeling pressured. “Listen, I’m fine sleeping on the couch. We both had a big day today and as long as I get a big goodnight hug, I’ll be fine.”

Bucky chews on his lips and looks shy. “Well…if you wanna sleep on the couch, then you can. But I don’t mind sharing my bed.”

Steve freezes. “Sharing for…sleeping? Or…?”

“Well, I wanna do the ‘or’ part. But if you wanna sleep, we can do that.”

“I don’t mind doing some…‘or’ stuff.”

Grinning, Bucky heads towards the bedroom. “Then come on! Let’s explore more of this ‘or’ stuff and see how we like it.”

It’s a little awkward at first, until Bucky sprawls out on the bed, kicks the blankets down and holds out his arms towards Steve. “Get over here, Rogers. My lips are cold.”

Laughing, Steve climbs onto the bed, but he’s very aware of where his limbs are and he has no idea how to position himself or how to start kissing Bucky or…

Bucky lets out a laugh. “Stop thinking so much! You’re making me nervous and that’s gonna make the quality of this ‘or’ stuff real bad.” Tangling his hands in the soft shirt Steve likes sleeping in, Bucky jerks him forward.

Steve lands with his forearms braced on either side of Bucky’s head, their faces inches apart and Bucky’s warm breath gusting over his face. Bucky’s smile is a little shaky and Steve can see a hint of nervousness on his face. “Hey, Barnes?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you,” Steve whispers.

That makes Bucky’s smile brighten and he releases Steve’s shirt to run his hands up to his neck, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him down while he leans up and kisses him.

Steve melts into the kiss and it feels just as good as it had a few hours ago. Their kisses start out chaste and Steve sighs softly against Bucky’s lips as he relaxes against him, their chests pressed together.

Bucky lets out a moan and parts his lips, his tongue darting out to lick Steve’s lips. That sends a spark of heat racing down Steve’s back and he eagerly parts his lips, letting Bucky flick his tongue into his mouth, tentatively exploring.

Using tongues is a brilliant idea and Steve swipes his tongue against Bucky’s, which makes Bucky tense beneath him and his hands tighten around Steve’s neck as he deepens the kiss, getting braver.

Heat builds in his stomach and Steve feels himself getting hard, his whole body tingling pleasantly as he pushes their tongues into Bucky’s mouth.

Letting out a much louder moan, Bucky sucks on Steve’s tongue and shifts against him…and Steve can feel he’s getting interested too.

Steve could happily stay here for eternity, but Bucky eventually pulls back, staring up at him, his eyes dark with arousal and his lips shiny with spit. “Rogers?”

“Hmm?” Steve can’t keep his lips off Bucky’s and keeps kissing him, even while Bucky tries to say something.

Bucky doesn’t seem bothered by it, but he does manage to get a few words out in between kisses. “We gotta…we gotta…I just…we gotta decide how we wanna…how we wanna end this.”

Pulling back a bit, Steve frowns down at him, not having a clue what Bucky’s talking about. His hips have started moving at some point, rubbing his cock against Bucky’s and despite both of them wearing soft pants, it feels fantastic.

“Oh, fuck…oh, that feels good…” Bucky mumbles against his lips, his own hips shifting and pressing his cock harder against Steve’s.

Steve’s trembling a bit and he’s happy just breathing against Bucky’s lips and feeling his warm breath against his face.

“What…what do you wanna do?” Bucky gasps out.

“Huh?”

“We…oh…we gotta…” Letting out a frustrated whine, Bucky slides his hands to Steve’s face and pushes him back a bit. “We gotta decide how we want things to end here, Rogers. We either gotta lose some clothes or I’ll have to excuse myself and have a bit of private time. Or I guess we could keep going the way we are, but I know these are your favorite pants for sleeping in and they won’t be in any condition to be slept in if we keep going.”

Steve laughs. He knows exactly what he wants, but he doesn’t want to push Bucky too much. “I’m fine with whatever you wanna do. Your choice.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Why’s it my choice? Cause you’ve got so much more experience than me?”

Chuckling, Steve shrugs. “That’s technically true, ain’t it? I’ve got three more kisses under my belt than you do.”

Bucky laughs and leans up to kiss Steve hard and slides his hand down to smack Steve’s ass.

To Steve’s surprise, that sends a shot of arousal through him and he lets out a loud groan, pressing down harder against Bucky’s cock.

Bucky’s watching his face and he keeps his hand on Steve’s ass but brings his other hand down to join the first. Slowly, he presses both hands against Steve’s ass, pushing him down against Bucky’s cock.

Letting out a choked groan, Steve drops his head into Bucky’s neck and whines softly as he thrusts harder, loving the feeling of Bucky’s hands on his ass—one warm flesh and the other cool metal—and how his cock is much happier when it’s being rubbed against Bucky.

Letting out a laugh, Bucky rubs Steve’s ass, but his laugh is shaky. “Rogers, I was serious. You ain’t gonna be happy if your pants get messy. I think we should lose the clothes.”

Steve raises his head, excitement making his heart race. “All of them?”

Bucky grins. “Uh huh. I ain’t got no first-hand experience with it, but I think it’ll make things even better.”

“You think so, huh?”

“Yep.”

Steve’s grin matches Bucky’s and it’s the exact same way they’ve grinned at each other their entire lives before they were about to embark on a fun adventure together. “I really wanna test this theory of yours.”

“Excellent.” Bucky smacks his ass with both hands and before Steve can lose his mind over how good that feels, Bucky’s shoving him off and sitting up, hands scrambling to pull off his own shirt. “Clothes off! Hurry up!”

It’s a struggle not elbowing each other in the face as they yank their clothes off and send them flying around the room, but the second Steve presses himself back over Bucky, warm skin against warm skin, it’s a thousand times better than before. They both groan and Bucky’s hands scramble for Steve’s ass again, grabbing it and pulling him until he’s plastered over Bucky, their hard cocks pressed against each other.

Steve shivers and whines as his hips thrust against Bucky, arousal racing through him. Bracing his arms on the pillow so he’s not crushing Bucky, he presses his forehead against Bucky’s, staring down at him.

Bucky’s gasping, making soft sounds and his eyes half-lidded with arousal, his hands digging into Steve’s ass. “Oh, this feels good, huh? I have great ideas.”

Letting out a shaky laugh, Steve gently nips Bucky’s lower lip. “Only sometimes, Barnes. Don’t…oh, Jesus…don’t let it get to your head.”

Chuckling, Bucky presses Steve’s ass harder against him and thrusts his hips faster, his cock twitching against Steve’s.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve gasps out, closing his eyes and feeling Bucky’s breath on his face as they rub against each other, heat and arousal building around them.

There’s no time for kissing, there’s no time for talking, they just lose themselves in how intense it feels. Steve’s cock aches and it’s leaving wet streaks all over their bellies as he thrusts against Bucky, smearing the warm, stickiness between them.

“I’m—I’m gonna come…” Bucky gasps out.

Steve desperately wants to feel it when Bucky comes and he shifts a bit until he can reach down and slide a hand between them, wrapping his hand around both of their slick, warm cocks and fisting them. He keeps his hand a little lose, not knowing how Bucky likes it, but his worries are erased by Bucky’s response. Letting out a loud gasp, Bucky’s hands dig into Steve’s ass and he tenses as his cock spurts warm cum between them, covering Steve’s hand and Steve’s own cock.

It sends a jolt of heat through Steve and after fisting his own cock and smearing Bucky’s cum all over it, he’s coming too.

Bucky’s gasping, eyes half-lidded as he stares up at Steve, watching him as he tenses and shakes through his orgasm, covering their bellies in more cum. When he’s done, Steve collapses right on Bucky, mashing his face against Bucky’s neck. Bucky doesn’t seem to mind, his grip still tight on Steve’s ass.

They lie there for a while, their bodies calming down and their breath slowing.

Steve becomes aware of Bucky’s hands having moved higher up and they rub long lines up and down his back as his nose nuzzles Steve’s hair. Wearily lifting his head, Steve reaches up a shaky hand and tilts Bucky’s chin down, finding his lips with his own.

Bucky hums against his lips, relaxing against the pillow and brushing his lips over Steve’s.

When Steve pulls back, he feels alive enough to shift off Bucky. That’s when he feels the cooling stickiness between them and makes a face.

Bucky laughs and scoots over enough to reach off the bed and fish his own shirt off the floor. “Thank God you brought me even more clothes. If we’re gonna be doing this often, I’m gonna be doing laundry way too often.”

Steve chuckles as Bucky wipes them both clean and tosses the shirt away. Lying down, Bucky tangles their feet together and puts his head on the pillow as they stare at each other, smiling softly. “Well, that went real well,” he murmurs.

Steve laughs. “I agree. Good job, us.”

Bucky laughs and shifts over to kiss Steve again. It’s amazing that Bucky’s kisses already feel familiar.

Pulling back, Bucky gives Steve a pat on the stomach. “I’m gonna get some clothes on. Getting chilly.”

Yawning, Steve feels way too comfortable to move. “Can you find me my pants and shirt, please?”

Laughing, Bucky rolls off the bed and goes looking for Steve’s clothes. “Lazy goof. Here—”

Steve’s pants come flying at him and land on his head. Chuckling, Steve sits up enough to pull them on and once his shirt has also landed on his head, he tugs it on and collapses back on the bed.

Bucky’s finished getting his sleeping clothes back on too. “I’m gonna say my prayers and then it’s time for sleeping.”

“Okay.”

Steve watches Bucky kneel next to the bed and bow his head. Unlike the last time he’d watched Bucky pray, Steve doesn’t feel conflicted about it. Bucky working to maintain his relationship with God is important to him, so that’s what he’ll do. Maintaining a relationship with God isn’t important to Steve, so he doesn’t have to participate.

Once he’s crossed himself, Bucky clasps his hands and starts to pray. It seems Bucky’s done this often enough now that he doesn’t have to use his notebook for help, and the words fill the small room in a quiet, gentle flow.

“Dear Lord, the evening comes, the day is done. Let peace wash over my household throughout the dark of night and in the few still hours of the next morning. Wipe away my troubles. Cleanse me of worry and doubt. Through You, may Your magnificent good be my protection forever more. Also, please watch over those whose names You can read in my heart, especially Steve. Guard over them with every care and make their way easy and their labours fruitful. Dry their tears if they weep; sanctify their joys; raise their courage if they weaken; restore their hope if they lose heart, their health if they be ill, truth if they err, repentance if they fail. Amen.”

Steve’s heart melts when he hears Bucky so casually including his name in the prayer. Like praying for Steve is a natural part of his evening praying.

Bucky finishes by crossing himself again and climbs back on the bed. “All done.”

Steve lifts his hand and gently touches Bucky’s cheek. “Thanks for praying for me.”

Grinning down at him, Bucky grabs Steve’s hand and kisses his palm. “You’re welcome. Thanks for letting me include you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Bucky reaches down for the blanket and lies down next to Steve, pulling the blanket up around them while tangling their feet together and smiling at Steve from his own pillow. “Good night, Stevie.”

“Night, Buck. I love you.” And for the first time, Steve allows himself to feel the true emotions behind those words.

Bucky’s eyes are shining. “I love you too.” He’s changed his customary response and Steve knows Bucky did it on purpose.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Steve whispers. “I promise.”

Bucky sighs softly. “I’m starting to believe that.”

Shifting over, Steve kisses him on the forehead. “Good. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Good night, Stevie.”


	26. Chapter 26

The next morning, Bucky takes his seizure medication before they cook breakfast together and sit down to eat. While Steve waits, Bucky says grace, then they tuck into their food.

Having watched Bucky praying again, it occurs to Steve that there’s something they might still have to discuss regarding their new relationship: how the Church views them being together.

Fiddling with his fork, Steve decides if he should bring it up or not. He doesn’t want to upset Bucky or cause difficulties in his relationship with the Church, but people will realize that they’re together. Even if they aren’t overly physically affectionate with each other in public, people in a small town like this are eventually going to notice that Steve spends a lot of time visiting Bucky and that they never date other people. It would be better for Bucky to deal with this issue now, rather than being forced to confront it if strangers—or worse, if somebody from the congregation or Father Ray—say something rude to him. “Hey, Buck?”

Bucky’s chewing on a sausage. “Hmm?”

“Have you thought about how the Church views us…being together?”

Continuing to chew, Bucky nods, but he looks relaxed. “Yeah.”

Steve blinks. “And you realize what the Church typically thinks about homosexuality, right?”

Bucky’s response is a shrug. “I talked to Father Ray about it.”

“You…did?”

“Well, not about us being together cause I didn’t know at the time that we’d ever get there. But once I realized that I love you, I got conflicted. It felt familiar to me cause I think I’ve been conflicted over it for a long time.”

Steve can relate to it. Leaving behind the Church’s hateful views of his feelings for Bucky may not have been the main reasons he’d left the Church, but it’s one part he’s never missed. It hadn’t been a big topic of discussion back when Steve had been going to church with Bucky, but it had been mentioned from time to time. Back then, it had always upset Steve but Bucky hadn’t cared, which had been a reflection of Bucky’s general attitude about religion.

But that’s changed now, which makes Bucky’s casual attitude surprising.

Bucky keeps talking as he’s chewing. “But then I realized it’s not the only thing I was feeling conflicted about. It was the biggest, but not the only thing. You know I like listening to the Bible on my music player, right?”

Steve nods, staring at Bucky and all thoughts of finishing his breakfast gone.

“So between going to church regularly and listening to the Bible on my own, I’ve started coming across passages that I didn’t like. Not just parts like Leviticus 18:22 that talks about…the things we do together, but other parts too. The Bible talks about certain things being bad and those are things I don’t have problems with and I didn’t like that God had problems with ‘em. Things like—hang on, I gotta get my notebook out. I wrote some of ‘em down.”

Bucky reaches into his pocket and pulls out the ever-present notebook, flipping through it. “Yeah, here’s one. It’s Deuteronomy 22:5. It goes ‘The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman's garment: for all that do so _are_ abomination unto the Lord thy God.’ Basically, it’s saying women shouldn’t wear men’s clothes and men shouldn’t wear women’s clothes.”

Steve smiles. “You trying to tell me something, Barnes?”

Bucky chuckles. “Nah. I find pants more practical. But anyway, that’s the point. I don’t see why God would have a problem with women wearing pants. Really, I don’t see why God would have a problem with a man wearing a dress. It’s impractical, but if that’s what a man wants to do, then they should be allowed to do that. It don’t mean they’re an abomination and it don’t mean they ain’t a good person. Really, what does it matter? It’s just clothes. There’s tons of things like that in the Bible and I didn’t like how God was making these silly little rules about things that weren’t hurting nobody, like whether two men can have relations.”

“Did you talk to Father Ray about it?”

“Uh huh, but I did more research first. There’s tons of rules in the Bible that I really do like. They’re the kind of things decent people should be doing. There’s Romans 12:18: ‘If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.’ And things like Luke 6:37.”

Words from long ago rise through Steve’s memory. It’s one of the few parts of the Bible he’d always enjoyed and it seems it’s gotten stuck in his memory. “‘Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven.’”

Bucky grins at him. “You can’t take the church outta you, Rogers.”

Steve chuckles. “Despite my best efforts. Anyway, so you like some of the rules and you don’t like others?”

Nodding, Bucky flips a few more pages. “Yeah. But it gets a lot more serious than that. The whole thing about ‘women can’t wear pants’, that’s just a small rule. And saying two men having relations is an abomination, that’s rude but it don’t make me real angry. There’s a part in Chronicles that really got to me cause it relates to you…hang on.”

After some more page flipping, Bucky gets to a page that’s marked with a bunch of little sticky tabs, indicating its importance. “Here it is. It’s in Book 2…it’s 15:13. It goes ‘That whosoever would not seek the Lord God of Israel should be put to death, whether small or great, whether man or woman.’” Bucky raises his eyebrows, not looking impressed. “Well, that’s not alright in my books at all. Calling a woman an abomination for wearing pants or a man an abomination for loving another man is one thing, but saying somebody should die for having a different opinion about God? That ain’t something I’m ever gonna support.”

Steve smiles. “You don’t think anybody should kill me for my heathen ways, huh?”

Bucky stares at him, not a trace of a smile on his face and seeing his seriousness makes Steve’s own smile fade.

“No, I don’t. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met and will ever meet and you not believing in God don’t make you a bad person. It certainly don’t mean you deserve to die. So I went to Father Ray and told him that I ain’t gonna support a God who wants non-believers to die.”

Staring at him, Steve fiddles with his fork. “What did Father Ray say?”

A smile re-appears on Bucky’s face and he closes his notebook. “Oh, we had a ton of good conversations about it and he had a lot of good explanations, but I’ll tell you my favorite. Basically, he reminded me that the Bible is a product of its time. It was written a long time ago for a society that existed thousands of years ago. The people who put the Bible together picked parts that reflected the society they wanted to have. But society’s changed a lot since then and we’ve seen that breaking some of these rules don’t lead to the world ending.”

Steve smiles, seeing where Bucky’s going with this.

“Plus, Father Ray says if Jesus were alive today, he’d be the first to update those rules. He’d keep the good ones and get rid of the ones that’re just hurting people. He’d definitely let women wear pants and I’m pretty sure he’d be fine with us loving each other. So Father Ray says I’m allowed to follow whatever parts of the Bible I want and ignore the rest cause that’s what Jesus would tell us to do anyway. I should use the bits that I make me feel good and I don’t gotta waste time worrying about the things that are at odds with my life and how I wanna live it.”

Giving Steve a smile, Bucky picks up his fork and resumes eating, as if the matter is settled.

Steve blinks at him, feeling impressed. Not only is it fantastic that Bucky’s found a way to reconcile his homosexuality with his faith, but Steve’s amazed at the amount of effort Bucky’s put into this. Clearly, he’s spent a lot of time studying the Bible and really thinking about his life and the role God plays in it.

“That’s real neat, Buck. I’ve never thought about those things.” The passages in the Bible had always been taught as concrete facts, not something to be questioned and thought over. It’s wonderful that Bucky’s thinking about things and it’s also great that Father Ray is fully supportive of Bucky’s mental exercises.

“Yeah, me neither,” Bucky says, stabbing his fork into fluffy bits of scrambled eggs. “I really like listening to the Bible and some of the passages are wonderful, that’s why I got worried about this whole thing. Talking to Father Ray about it helped a lot. He told that my relationship with God don’t gotta be the exact same as other people’s and my way ain’t any better or worse than other people’s.”

Steve picks up his fork. “I really like Father Ray.”

Bucky grins. “Me too.”

“And hey?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really proud of how much you’ve thought about this.”

Bucky’s grin gets a little shy and he ducks his head. “I ain’t some scholar, Rogers. I just like thinking about what I’m listening to. I’ve spent enough time having people tell me what to think and I like doing my own thinking these days.”

Steve gives him a sad smile. Being reminded of what Bucky’s suffered through is always difficult and Steve thinks it’ll always be difficult for him, but it’s wonderful that Bucky’s found such a great way to deal with things. But Bucky’s desire to take control of his own life isn’t the only reason Steve’s impressed with him. “I’m proud of you for another reason too.”

“What?”

“You did all that thinking cause you want your relationship with God to work out. You’re putting a hell of a lot of effort into it to make it work, just like you’ve done with any other relationship in your life. I know it ain’t easy for you to write down those passages, constantly going back and forth on the music player and not losing track of what you’re doing, but you do it cause it’s important to you. You wanna spend time keeping your relationship with God solid, and that’s wonderful. I’m proud of you.”

Bucky’s glowing, but he fiddles with his fork. “Eat your damn breakfast, Rogers and quit making me blush.”

Steve obediently returns to his breakfast, but he notices Bucky keeps fiddling with his fork. “What’s wrong?” Steve mumbles around a mouthful of food.

Bucky’s staring at him intently. “I really like talking to Father Ray about the Bible.”

“Okay…what—”

“But I really liked talking to you about it too. I know you don’t believe and that’s okay, but…do you think I can sometimes tell you things that I like from the Bible? Not to preach at you, but just cause I like talking about those things?”

Steve smiles softly. “You can talk to me about anything you want, anytime. I love talking to you and I don’t care what we’re talking about. You’re fine with me not believing in God, right?”

Bucky snorts. “Of course.”

“Then there’s no problem. I’d love to talk to you about whatever you want, including Bible stuff.”

A smile lights up Bucky’s face. “Okay.”

* * *

They spend the rest of the morning on the couch, kissing and just enjoying being together. They often break apart to smile at each other, still not really daring to believe that they get to have this.

But after a few hours, Bucky starts getting a little grumpy and they head out to tick off more items on Bucky’s ‘First Days of Post-Program Life’ list. To Steve’s joy, Bucky’s taking charge of what tasks he needs to do and how to accomplish them. He does have a piece of paper with his to-do items written down, but he doesn’t ask Steve for guidance on any of it, which is fantastic.

Steve’s just there for company and that’s exactly how it should be.

The first thing they do is head to the doctor’s office and make an appointment for Bucky. Although he hasn’t had a seizure in months, that’s only thanks to the medication he’s taking. The doctor will have to continue prescribing him the medication and Bucky will have to come in for weekly doctor appointments until the doctor feels comfortable enough to let him come in less frequently. In any case, it’s essential that Bucky’s new doctor becomes familiar with Bucky’s medical history. Unfortunately, taking his seizure medication will be a lifelong requirement for Bucky.

The doctor doesn’t have any openings today, but Bucky makes an appointment for tomorrow. He gives the receptionist the phone number for the rehab center and she promises to get in touch with Dr. Joshua and get Bucky’s medical records transferred. Bucky has enough seizure medication to last two weeks, which is plenty of time to get everything set up.

While Bucky’s dealing with the receptionist and filling out forms, Steve pulls out his phone and sees that a few of his running group friends have sent him pictures and text messages since last night. Smiling, Steve scrolls through the messages and replies to them.

One of the older members of their group, a man in his sixties named Bob had sent Steve an update on his sprained ankle, which had kept him away from doing runs with them for a few weeks. He tells Steve he’s feeling much better and the doctor said he should be cleared to run again in about a week, which is great and Steve replies back with the little thumbs up picture and tells Bob he’ll be happy to see him running with the group again.

Then he sees a text message from Sam, asking Steve to confirm that he’ll be back in DC in time for Bob’s surprise birthday dinner in a week. Bob has no idea that the group is planning a surprise party for him and Steve’s really excited about it. He replies to Sam, promising that he’ll be back in DC in plenty of time.

Bucky’s doing really well and Steve doesn’t think he’ll need to be here longer than a week. It’s a nice feeling to know he’s happy being here with Bucky, but that he also misses his life and friends in DC. He’s made good progress in the last few weeks.

Next on Bucky’s to-do list is buying a bicycle. The town might be small, but Bucky tells Steve he doesn’t like the idea of his comings and goings being restricted because he’s always travelling on foot, and taking a cab is expensive. There’s one bus that runs through town, but it only comes once an hour and Bucky can get to wherever he needs to go with a bike much faster.

“I wish I could drive,” Bucky grumbles as they walk down the street to the general store, which apparently has a few bicycles for sale.

Steve gently bumps him in the shoulder as they walk. “I know you do, but you know the rules. You gotta wait a few more months and if you haven’t had a seizure by then, the state will let you get your license. Just be patient.”

Bucky does cheer up when they get to the store and despite only having a few bikes to choose from, he finds one he likes. It has a water bottle holder and a little rack on the back which Bucky can use to carry groceries and other items. After finding a bike helmet that fits him too, Bucky is much happier with the situation. “This is gonna be fun! It’s so much better than the stationary bike at the center’s gym.”

Steve laughs, remembering that first day at the center where Bucky had sat on the stationary bike and pedalled a bit, with Steve standing behind him in case he had a seizure. Back then, Bucky pedalling the bike had been a big accomplishment. Now, Bucky’s buying his own bicycle and he’ll use to get around town on his own while Steve is back in DC.

“You’ve come a long way since you sat on that bike at the center, Buck,” Steve murmurs, smiling proudly.

Bucky grins at him as he straddles his new bike and plays with the pedals. “We’ve both come a long way since then. You ain’t stressed about me riding this bike around town while you’re in DC, are you?”

Steve chuckles and shakes his head. “Nope. Not even a little bit.”

He really isn’t. In fact, he’s not only confident that Bucky will be fine on his own, but he’s looking forward to going back to DC and seeing his apartment and his friends. Being around Bucky will always be Steve’s favorite thing in the world, but now Bucky isn’t the only thing in Steve’s world and that’s a good thing.

After walking Bucky’s bike back home, they have lunch and then it’s time for one of Bucky’s other big tasks: going to the library. Despite not being able to read printed books, Bucky will be relying on the library for other things and in preparation for that, Wen had brought Bucky to the library previously to introduce him to the staff, show him around and get a library card, which has now been proudly put into Bucky’s new wallet.

Once they get to the town’s small library, Bucky checks his notebook before entering, re-familiarizing himself with the names of the staff he might come across. When he’s ready, Bucky gives Steve a nod. “I can do it.”

“Okay. I’ll just sit on one of the chairs.”

While Bucky goes to greet the elderly lady sitting by the front desk, Steve hangs back and relaxes in a big chair by the front door. Once again, he doesn’t have anything he needs to do here, he’s just moral support. As he waits, Steve pulls out his phone and sees that both Sam and Susan have replied to his texts from this morning and he chats with both them while keeping one ear on Bucky’s conversation.

Bucky shows the woman his library card and asks how he can go about getting new audio books loaded on his music player. “Unfortunately, I ain’t able to use a computer myself, ma’am. I have a seizure disorder and looking at screens like that ain’t good for me.”

Steve struggles to hide his smile as he keeps his gaze on Sam’s newest text message. Technically, none of what Bucky said is a lie, but it’s not the whole truth either. But blaming his seizures for his problem with using computers is easier than trying to explain that he suffers from permanent brain trauma and his brain can’t deal with the complex sensory input a computer provides without leaving Bucky confused and battling headaches.

“Oh, that’s fine, sweetheart. I can help you whenever you like. You just tell me what kind of books you want and we’ll sit down and find some for you.”

Bucky grins. “That’ll be great, thank you.”

Steve knows Bucky will always come armed with flowers or baked goods and that every staff member in the library will soon be fighting over who gets to help him whenever he comes in. He writes that in a text message and sends it to Sam, who replies back with a laughing face.

* * *

After they’re done at the library, they go home to make dinner and pack everything into containers and drive out to their picnic spot.

Bucky’s thrilled to be outside and there’s nobody around so they can spend as much time kissing as they do eating without anybody seeing them. After eating, they’re lying on the blanket with Bucky sprawled out on Steve’s chest and Steve rubbing his back, his eyes closed against the bright glare of the sun warming his face.

“Hey, Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

“I really miss being out at the ranch. D’you think I can have money for some riding lessons? The ranch lets people come for lessons.”

Steve doesn’t even have to think about it before answering. Whatever Bucky needs money for, he’ll get money for it. “Sure.”

Bucky’s quiet for a moment, before he pushes him up to a sitting position and Steve can feel him staring down at him. “How many riding lessons can I have?”

Steve shrugs. “As many as you want.”

There’s no response and Steve opens his eyes and shields them against the bright sunshine to look at Bucky, who’s frowning and chewing on his lip. “What’s wrong?”

“You know I don’t feel good about using your money, especially when it’s for something like riding lessons. That’s not the same as you paying for my rent and food.”

Sitting up, Steve grabs Bucky’s closest hand—which happens to the metal one—and squeezes it. “It’s exactly the same. Our money should be used to take care of both of us, whether it’s paying to keep a roof over our heads, food in our bellies or paying for my art classes or your riding lessons.”

“But it ain’t really my money.”

Frowning, Steve jostles his hand. “Yes, it is.” And idea occurs to him. “Listen, when I get back to DC, I’ll go to the bank and get you added to my account, okay? I’ll send you some papers, you sign ‘em and send ‘em back to me, I’ll bring ‘em to the bank and then it’ll be official. It’ll really be our money. I’ll send you your own bank card and I’ll teach you how to use it.”

Bucky stares at him. “Are you sure?”

Steve chuckles. “Of course I am!” As Steve thinks about it, he realizes this is really something he should have thought about earlier. “Listen, there’s two big reasons why I want you to have equal access to our money. It don’t sit right with me that you always gotta ask me before spending money. You ain’t a little kid and I ain’t giving you pocket money for doing your chores. This money belongs to both of us cause that’s how we’ve always done things and we both got the right to spend it however we want. Once you start working, you can either make your own account or just add your money to our account. But the money in our account belongs to both of us. That’s how things have always been and that’s how it’ll always be, no matter what happens.”

A small smile is tugging on the corners of Bucky’s lips. Steve gently grabs his chin and kisses him. “Okay?”

Bucky nods. “Yeah, I like that. What’s the second reason?”

Steve makes a face. “Well, it’s a little morbid, but it’s important. If I get in a car accident and die tomorrow, I don’t wanna leave you penniless just cause you don’t got access to the money in our account. It’s something I should’ve thought about earlier, but better late than never, right?”

A muscle jumps in Bucky’s jaw and he presses his lips together. “That’s a good point. I didn’t even think about that.”

“And now you don’t gotta worry about it. I’ll get the paperwork started as soon as I’m back in DC. Before I go home, I’ll take out a bunch of cash and that should last you until you get the bank card.”

Bucky makes a face. “Is it hard to use?”

“No, don’t worry. How about this? Once I have the papers, you go to the library and ask ‘em if I can email the forms to the library and they can help you fill ‘em out and send ‘em back to me. Then I’ll have the bank send your card to me and I’ll bring it out here when it’s ready and show you how to use it. But if you don’t like using it with the machines in the stores, then you can always go to the bank and they’ll help you take out cash whenever you want.”

That brings the smile back to Bucky’s face and his eyes are shining as he stares at Steve. “Thanks,” he says softly. “Not just for the card, but all of it.”

Tightening his grip on Bucky’s face, Steve smiles and kisses him again. “We’re a team for life, Bucky Barnes. What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine. That’s always how we’ve done things and that’s how things will always be.”

Bucky’s smile grows wider. “I like that.”

“Hey, you wanna call the ranch when we get back home and find out how much riding lessons cost? You can get yourself signed up and I can pay over the phone so you’ll be ready to go.”

“Okay.” Pulling back from Steve, Bucky gives him a push to get him lying down again and sprawls out on his chest, rubbing his face in Steve’s shirt.

Smiling, Steve wraps his arms around Bucky and closes his eyes again. “How are you gonna get out there, by the way? You gonna take your bike?”

“Yeah, it ain’t too far. It’ll take me about an hour to get out there. That’s easy.”

“You’re gonna be careful, right?”

Bucky snorts. “Yes, ma. I’ll even send you a text message whenever I get there and when I get back home.”

“Okay, thank you.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the warm sunshine and each other’s company. But all this talk about DC is making Steve miss his own apartment and his own life back home. It’s weird that he considers both Bucky’s place here and his own place in DC ‘home’, but that makes him feel good. “Hey, Buck?”

“Hmm?”

“How long d’you want me to stay?”

Bucky shrugs against him. “You stay as long as you wanna stay. You know I’m fine, I’ve proven that, haven’t I? I’ve got lots of things I wanna do. I’m gonna start looking for work, talk to Father Ray about volunteering, make more friends around town and go out to the ranch and church and all sorts of stuff. I love having you here, but I don’t need you to stay.”

Steve smiles. “That’s really great, you know that?”

“Yeah. And you know what else is great?”

“What?”

Bucky shifts and Steve feels the sun being blocked over his face. Opening his eyes, he sees Bucky staring down at him with a smile. “It’s great that you’re missing being in DC. You’ve been talking to your friends and I know you’re missing going to art class and your running group and your apartment. That’s all real good and I’m proud of you.”

Smiling, Steve wiggles his eyebrows at him. “You gonna show me how proud you are by kissing me?”

Bucky’s smile changes to a smirk. “Jesus, the things you make me do. I don’t know how I put up with you.”

Steve chuckles and slings a leg over Bucky’s, rubbing it suggestively. “Oh, I’ve got a couple of ideas if you need an answer to that question.”

Laughing, Bucky leans down and kisses him.


	27. Chapter 27

Steve heads back to DC two days later. He and Bucky part ways at Sunshine Diner after they had a farewell lunch and polished off a few vanilla milkshakes.

Bucky had put his bike into Steve’s car and he’s planning on riding out to the ranch as a practice run so he’ll know exactly how long it takes him. His first riding lesson is the day after tomorrow and he wants to make sure he won’t be late.

As Steve stands on the sidewalk next to his car and watches Bucky pedalling up the main street, there’s only a small glimmer of sadness in his gut. He’s too full of pride and joy to feel sad. Plus, even though he won’t see Bucky for a few days, he’ll get a text message from him within the hour and they’ll chat on the phone tonight.

When Bucky reaches the street where he’ll have to make a left turn, he stops and turns around, waving goodbye to Steve, his big grin visible despite his dark sunglasses and the bike helmet on his head.

Smiling, Steve waves back, his heart glowing at how good things are going.

Once Bucky’s seen Steve’s wave, he gets going again and makes his left turn, disappearing from view.

To his surprise, Steve isn’t even tempted to follow him. He knows Bucky’s capable of getting to the ranch on his own and it would be insulting for Steve to follow him. Yes, there’s a small chance that Bucky might get in an accident along the way…but that’s just part of life. There’s no guarantee Steve himself won’t get into an accident on the way home. These are risks that come with living life and following Bucky with his car won’t do anything to prevent such things from happening.

Smiling, Steve gets into his car, plugs his phone in so his car will alert him if he gets a message from Bucky and starts his drive back to DC.

The main reason Steve decided to head back to DC today was because he’d received a text message from Sam the night before. Apparently, Bob had something come up which requires him to fly to California for his birthday, which means their surprise party needs to be re-scheduled. The only date Sam could find that fit for most people is the day after tomorrow. Sadly, some people can’t make the re-scheduled date, but Steve talked to Bucky about it, who encouraged him to go.

“Bob’s a good friend and it’ll make him happy to see you there. I’m fine, so you should go. You’ll have plenty of time to get ready for his party if you leave tomorrow.”

While he drives, he divides his time between thinking about Bucky cycling out to the ranch and how surprised Bob will be at his party. It’s nice way to pass the driving time.

* * *

Bob’s birthday party ends up being the surprise they’d hoped it would be. They’d told Bob to meet them at the restaurant—a Thai restaurant that they know is one of Bob’s favorites—and they pretended it would be a normal get-together. The look on his face when they’d told him they were here to celebrate his birthday had been amazing and Steve is even happier with his decision to come back to DC earlier.

It’s wonderful being back home and surrounded by his friends. The best part is that Bucky’s still a big part of the event, since Steve texts him throughout the party and sends him photos. Bucky had sent him tons of photos today too, since it had been his first riding lesson post-rehab-center-graduation. Bucky had glowed in every single picture, thrilled to be back out on the ranch and working with the horses.

Overall, it’s been a good day so far.

When their meal is winding down, Steve is sitting next to Susan and telling her about Bucky’s riding lesson while showing her pictures.

“He looks very happy,” Susan says, smiling down at a picture of Bucky holding the reins of a white-brown horse as the it nuzzles Bucky’s arm.

Steve grins. “Yeah, he is. He loves being out there.”

“Has he thought about turning his passion into a job? I don’t know anything about working on a ranch, but that would be a good idea.”

Steve sighs. “Yeah, we talked about it. He’d love to work out at a ranch, but those jobs are hard to come by. A lot of ranches out there don’t make a lot of money and they can’t afford to hire a lot of staff. And Buck ain’t very experienced either. But he’s a quick learner and if he spends more time out there and helping out around town, something might come up.”

Bucky had decided to take it easy on himself for a little while and get his bearings before looking for work. Steve had already gone to the bank and gotten the paperwork Bucky needs to sign and mailed it off for him. Once Bucky has his own bank card, Steve knows he’ll relax about the money issue and finding work won’t be such a pressing issue.

He’d reminded Bucky a hundred times that they’re lucky to be in a position where they don’t have to grab whatever job is available, unlike when they had been younger. They can both take their time and wait until something really great comes their way.

“So how’s your own job hunt going?” Susan asks him.

Steve sighs. “Not so good. It’s so damn hard figuring out what I wanna do. I don’t even know where to start. At least Buck has a direction, you know? I’ve got skills, but I don’t wanna do anything related to the military and that’s the only job I’ve had. At least, in this century.”

Susan looks thoughtful. “Well, what are your passions?”

Steve snorts. “Drawing and baking. But I don’t really know how I could turn either of those into good jobs.”

To Steve’s surprise, Susan starts laughing and gently punches him on the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to do something with baking?!”

He frowns. “Cause that’s just a hobby. Anybody can bake.”

“That’s not true. You know how I know that?”

“How?”

“Because my sister owns a bakery just a few blocks from here and she’s constantly having to let people go who don’t have a feel for baking. Following the recipe is just a small part of it.” She squeezes Steve’s arm. “You know what? My sister’s looking for a new baker right now. If you’re interested, I can put in a good word for you.”

Steve stares at her. His heart’s racing at the thought of actually getting to do something he loves as a job. A job that pays money! But he takes a breath and forces himself to calm down. “I don’t got any professional baking experience.”

“That’s okay! My sister hires inexperienced people all the time. As long as the person is a quick learner and passionate about baking, it usually works out.”

Gaping at her, Steve is about to fall out of his chair. “Are you serious? This ain’t something I’m happy to joke about.”

“I’m not joking! Here—” Before Steve can blink, Susan’s pulling out her phone and calling somebody. “Hey Kel, it’s me. Listen, did you fill that weekday morning position at the bakery yet?”

Steve holds his breath.

“No? Okay, good. I have a candidate for you, his name’s Steve Rogers. He—yeah, yeah, _that_ Steve Rogers. Yeah, but Kel? Don’t call him that, okay? He’s just Steve. Plain, old, wonderful Steve. Anyway, he’s a passionate baker and he’s looking for work. Could he come by for an interview?...Okay, great! I’ll tell him. Thanks!”

Hanging up the phone, Susan grins at him. “I hope you’re not busy tomorrow morning, because you have a job interview at 9:00 tomorrow.”

Steve gapes at her. “Are you serious?!”

“Yup! And you know what you’re gonna do now?”

“What?”

“You’re gonna give Bob a hug goodbye and you’re gonna hurry home and I’m gonna email you Kelly’s favorite cupcake recipe and you’re gonna make a batch to bring her tomorrow. If that doesn’t get you the job, nothing will.”

* * *

Steve feels like he’s stuck in a whirlwind. A very exciting whirlwind, but also a scary one. On the way home, he frantically calls Bucky to tell him what happened.

“That’s great, Stevie! Are you home yet?”

“I’m a couple of minutes away. What if I don’t got something that I need for the recipe?”

“Then you go to the store and buy it, you goof! We’ve got all night to get these cupcakes made, so don’t worry.”

Looking at the time, Steve presses his lips together. If he’s missing some ingredients and if he messes up his first batch, it’ll take him half the night to get the cupcakes done. “Will you stay on the phone with me until they’re done?”

“There ain’t nowhere I’d rather be, Rogers. I’ll tell you all about my riding lesson and you’ll work. You can do this, I know you can.”

Kelly’s favorite cupcakes turn out to be chocolate cupcakes with candied walnut cream cheese frosting and Steve reads the recipe out loud to Bucky when he gets home and sees it in his email. “Shit! Buck, these are hard. I ain’t never done that candying thing before with boiling the sugar.”

“That’s fine, we’ll figure it out. Look at the ingredients and check if you’re missing anything. Make sure you got enough for two batches, just in case something goes wrong and we gotta start over.”

Luckily, he has everything he needs at home and he gets to work, talking through the recipe as he does each step, with Bucky adding encouragements as he goes, his calm voice drifting out of the phone that’s propped up on the window sill, safely out of the baking danger zone that’s taken over his counters.

Making the batter isn’t difficult and once they cupcakes are in the oven, he starts on the cream cheese frosting. He’s made this type of frosting dozens of times already and doesn’t need to concentrate as intensely as he’d done with the batter, which means it’s the perfect time for Bucky tell Steve about his riding lesson.

By the time the cupcakes are out of the oven and cooling, the cream cheese frosting is in the fridge and Steve’s learned that Bucky was allowed to ride a young horse today who had just recently finished her training and was very feisty. “She really tried to throw you off?!”

Bucky’s response is to laugh. “Yeah! She reared up a few times and even bucked once, but I clamped down with my thighs and held onto her mane and I stayed put. I guess that disappointed her cause she didn’t try again.”

Poking at his cooling cupcakes to see if they’re ready for a taste test, Steve smiles wryly. “I don’t know how you’re so casual about it. I’d pee my pants if a horse did that to me. And I’d probably get off voluntarily and run right back to my car.”

Bucky laughs. “That’s what makes you Stevie Town-Mouse and me Bucky Country-Mouse. I loved it. I like it when the horses have a real personality, especially if they’re a little feisty. I like having to earn their respect and using what I’ve learned to make ‘em listen to me. It feels so good when the horse and I are working together after started out disagreeing about things. Are the cupcakes cooled yet?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, try a piece. I’m keeping all my fingers crossed!”

Steve tears one of the cupcakes in half and breathes a sigh of relief when it’s baked all the way through. He takes a bite and chews, focusing on the texture and taste of it. “Mmm, it tastes real good!”

“Yay! Okay, let’s keep going. Now it’s time for the candied walnuts, right? Don’t get flustered. We can do this, we’ll just go one step at a time. What’s the first step?”

Making the candied walnuts takes forever. Steve’s never made caramel before and he burns the sugar multiple times before he figures out when to stir, when to swirl the sauce pan and what color it needs to reach before pulling it off the heat. He’s stopped looking at the clock ages ago because it doesn’t really matter what time it is. He finally gets the consistency of the caramel right, tosses in the walnuts and pours the sticky, hot mixture onto a piece of parchment paper.

“Is it on the paper?” Bucky asks.

Hoisting the empty sauce pan into the sink—hopefully for the last time tonight—Steve releases it and lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. Now we just gotta wait until they’re cool before I chop ‘em up.”

“Okay, good. We’re almost there! Sit down and relax for a few minutes until they’re cool.”

Wiping his hand on his shirt, Steve grabs his phone and slides to the floor of his kitchen, leaning against the cupboards. “So did you feed those carrots you bought to the horses?”

Bucky had told him last night that he’d bought some carrots from the store and he was planning on bringing them to the ranch to feed to the horses.

“Oh, yeah! I ate a couple too, but I gave most of ‘em to the horses. They loved them. Did I tell you it tickles when they eat something outta your hand?”

Steve’s eyes are starting to drop shut, but he blinks hard. It’s not time for sleeping yet. “Why’s it tickle?”

“Cause the horses use their lips to grab the carrot and they flap their lips all over your palm when they’re trying to grab it. It feels real funny.”

Steve can picture it in his head and the adorable image makes him smile.

When the candied walnuts have cooled, Steve chops them up and frosts a few practice cupcakes to see how they taste and to make sure he’ll be able to make nice looking ones when he wakes up tomorrow. Decorating them isn’t difficult, but when he’s faced with the finished cupcake, his stomach clenches with nerves. “What if it don’t taste good?”

“First of all: there’s only a tiny, tiny chance of that happening. You’ve tried every part of it and all the parts tasted good so there’s only a tiny, tiny chance that the whole thing won’t taste good. Second of all: even if it don’t taste good, we have plenty of time and we’ll start over.”

It’s such a wonderful feeling to know that Bucky really means the ‘we’ part. Even if these cupcakes taste terrible, Bucky will stay on the phone with him however long it takes Steve to do this whole thing again. He won’t complain, he’ll encourage Steve at every step of the way and he’ll distract him with nice stories and calm him down whenever he gets anxious.

Standing in the middle of his kitchen at 1:30 in the morning, his counters covered in dirty dishes and baking ingredients and his shirt and pants covered in flour, his heart glows at how much he loves Bucky.

“You know I love you, right?” he whispers. “You know you’re the most amazing person in the universe, right?”

Bucky chuckles softly. “I share that honor with you. And yeah, I know you love me. And you know that I love you more than anything in the world. Now, try one of those cupcakes so we know what our next step is.”

Feeling a little apprehensive still, Steve takes a generous bite of the cupcake and chews carefully. The chocolate flavor explodes in his mouth and the sweet, crunchy texture of the walnuts adds a nice contrast to the fluffy, soft cupcake and the smooth frosting.

“Mmm! These are great!” he mumbles, spraying crumbs everywhere.

Bucky laughs, sounding thrilled. “That’s fantastic! I’m so damn proud of you.”

Swallowing, Steve grins down at his phone. “I can’t believe we did it.”

“Oh, I can! I knew we would. Okay, get everything put away and set your alarm so you can frost ‘em all nice before you go for your interview tomorrow.”

Steve’s almost completely forgotten about the interview and his stomach clenches into a nervous knot at the thought of screwing things up tomorrow.

But Bucky must sense what he’s thinking. “Stop that, Rogers. Focus on putting stuff away, leave the dishes until tomorrow and go to bed. Don’t think about tomorrow until tomorrow. That’s what Alisha used to always tell me and we’ll use it tonight, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Come on, get the candied walnuts into the fridge.”

They stay on the phone all the way through Steve putting things away, brushing his teeth, getting changed, falling into bed, and Bucky doing his prayer.

Finally, they’re both lying in bed and Steve’s half-asleep. “Thanks for helping me tonight. I love you.”

“I love you too and you’re welcome. Call me tomorrow when you wake up—it don’t matter what time it is.”

“Okay.”

* * *

The next morning, Steve calls Bucky after he’s done having a quick shower and Bucky helps keep him focused as his stomach keeps trying to tie itself into knots from nerves.

He inhales a bowl of cereal, frosts the cupcakes, puts on nice clothes, makes sure his hair looks good and carefully drives to the bakery, the precious cupcakes sitting in the backseat, wearing a seatbelt. When he pulls up in front of the bakery, he’s shaking with nerves. “I’m here.”

“How’s it look?” Bucky asks. “Is it a nice place?”

“Yeah. It’s got a yellow awning, just like Sunshine Diner. I’ll take a picture for you.” Steve takes a picture and sends it to Bucky. Sadly, Bucky won’t be able to see it until they’re off the phone because his phone doesn’t allow multi-tasking the way Steve’s computer phone does.

“That’s great! We both love Sunshine Diner, so that’s a sign things will go great. And even if they don’t, there’s other bakeries in DC. Now, take a deep breath.”

Steve takes a deep breath.

“How’s your hair? Still looking decent?”

He glances in the rear-view mirror and decides it’s decent enough. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Good. Now, keep breathing, smile and just be yourself. You can do this, I know you can.”

Steve presses his lips together. “I’m nervous.”

“I know, but I’m gonna be right there with you. I’m gonna say a quick prayer as soon as we hang up so then you’ve got all the luck in the universe. Even if you don’t believe in it, it’s best not to take chances.”

Steve chuckles. “Thanks, Buck.” Then he smacks the steering wheel. “Okay, let’s do this.”

“Good luck!”

After hanging up, Steve stuffs his phone into his pocket and gets out of the car, carefully taking his cupcakes out of the backseat. Just thinking about Bucky currently saying a prayer for him helps keep him calm. It’s not that Steve believes the prayer will really do anything, but it’s nice that Bucky’s supporting him.

Not allowing himself to dwell on his nerves, Steve walks into the bakery, a little bell above the door tingling to announce his presence. The smell of baked goods surrounds him and his eyes are drawn to the large glass display case that runs the length of the store, filled with colorful deserts. The wall behind the glass counter is filled with shelves of bread and buns.

To Steve’s dismay, he sees some chocolate cupcakes with candied walnut cream cheese frosting in the display case…and they look much nicer than his own. The frosting is identical on every single one and the walnut pieces are all uniform size. Shit. Maybe he should have used a food processor to chop up the walnuts, like the recipe had said? He hadn’t wanted to wake up his neighbors with the noise, but now he’s regretting that decision. His cupcakes don’t look nearly as nice as these ones.

But before he can decide that he’s not cut out for this and walk back out, a middle-aged woman behind the counter glances at him. “Hi there! How can I help you?”

“I’m—uh—I’m Steve Rogers. I’m looking for Kelly? I’m here for an interview.”

She grins and when Steve recognizes the smile as Susan’s, he realizes he’s already found Kelly. “Hi, Steve! I’m Kelly. Come on in.” She pulls open a small gate next to the display case and waves for him to enter.

Holding his box of cupcakes, Steve steps behind the counter and follows her to a small office.

“This is my office where all the papers live. The kitchen’s in the back.” Sitting down behind a small desk, she gestures for Steve to take a seat.

Not knowing what to do with his cupcakes, he keeps the box on his lap.

“So, Susan told me you’re interested in the morning position?”

“Uh…yes. Really, I’m interested in any position.”

She smiles. “That’s great! Do you have a resume with you?”

He gapes at her. Shit! With all the time he’d spent baking last night, he’d completely forgotten that people are supposed to show up at job interviews with resumes! Well, back in the day that hadn’t been necessary, but he knows it’s part of today’s world. Bucky had ranted about it constantly during his job-training classes. It seems they both forgot about it.

“I—uh—I’m sorry, I don’t have one.” But that’s when Bucky’s voice pipes up in his head and reminds him that he kind of _does_ have a resume with him—sitting on his lap. “Well, actually, I did bake some cupcakes, so maybe those can be my resume?”

She raises her eyebrows at him. “Oh? Well, that’s a little unusual, but I like it. You made them from scratch?”

“Yes, ma’am. I baked them last night so they should be fresh. I frosted them this morning.” Putting the box on the desk, he takes off the lid and Kelly leans forward to take a look.

As soon as she sees what kind they are, she starts laughing. “Oh, my sister’s clever, isn’t she? Susan told you these are my favorites, didn’t she?”

Steve takes a shaky breath. “Yeah, she did. Listen, I know they ain’t as nice as the ones in your display case out there, but I think they taste real good.”

She takes one out and studies it, rotating her hand. “You don’t have any professional experience, do you?”

Steve’s heart plummets. “No, ma’am. I only started baking a couple of months ago.”

To his surprise, she smiles. “That’s fine, but I can tell you have passion and skill. I can tell by the weight that it’s baked well and you made an effort to make it look nice. You don’t know some of the tricks professionals use to get the picture perfect cupcakes that you see out there, but those things can be learned.”

Steve jumps on that. “I’m a real quick learner, ma’am. I love baking and I’m willing to work as hard as it takes.”

Kelly gives him a long look as she peels off the cupcake liner and sniffs the cupcake. Steve holds his breath as she carefully splits the cupcake in half and looks at the inside. She presses her finger against the cake and rubs a few morsels of it between her fingers before finally biting into it.

Steve stares at her, already preparing himself to see her frown and make a kind excuse of why Steve isn’t ready for a job like this.

But to his surprise, she smiles as she chews. Once she’s swallowed, she gives Steve a nod. “These are very good, Steve. I’m not just saying that to be kind. The frosting’s a little over whipped and I would have let the caramel brown a little bit more to get more flavor, but you did a great job.”

Leaning back in her chair, she tilts her head as she studies him more closely while she finishes the cupcake. Once it’s done, she brushes the crumbs off her hands. “Okay, now we both know you’re serious about this. But my question is: why a bakery? You’re Captain America. You could get a job anywhere you want.”

Steve snorts. “Yes, if I wanted to keep being Captain America. But I’m retired and finding work as Steve Rogers is a lot harder. I don’t know what I wanna do with my life, but I love baking and when Susan suggested that I might like working in a bakery, it really appealed to me.”

“Why do you like baking?”

“It’s fun and also interesting. I love that I combined random ingredients that don’t look nothing like cupcakes and they turned into these cupcakes. And I like making people happy. Everybody likes eating dessert and it’s so nice seeing people enjoying the things I’m making. It would be wonderful if I can do what I love and get paid for it, but what really excites me is being able to learn new things. I wanna learn how to make the perfect frosting and how to make deserts look as beautiful as the ones you have out there.”

She’s giving him a long look, then smiles. “I like what I’m hearing so far.”

He gives her a shaky smile, not knowing how to respond to that.

“Let me tell you more about the position.”

Steve’s not sure, but he thinks this is a good sign. “Okay.”

“I’m looking for a baker, that means somebody who works in the back, in the kitchen. You won’t be working with customers. The days start early—usually 4:00 but it could be earlier if we have a lot of bread orders to get through. You need to be a good team player, you need to learn fast and because of the nature of our business, you need to do a good job. My business suffers if we don’t get things prepared in time. I’m willing to train you, but you’ll need to work hard and learn fast.”

Steve nods frantically. “I can do that, ma’am. And I have no problem with early starts.”

“You can do five days a week, 4:00 starts?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve been an early riser my entire life.” He doesn’t bother telling her that he got used to it when Bucky had early morning shifts at the dock and had to get up at 4:00 or 4:30 and Steve would usually get up with him and make breakfast and walk him to work. Getting early starts on the day is the way they’ve always lived.

They discuss a few other things—the hourly wage, what Steve’s responsibilities would be—and Steve feels even more optimistic. He’s still cautious, but things are going well.

“So are you okay with all of that?”

“Yes, absolutely. If you give me a chance, I promise I won’t let you down.”

She gives him a smile. “Okay, great! Would you like to start tomorrow?”

He blinks. “You’re giving me the job?”

“I have a good feeling about you. If you want it, then the job is yours.”

A big grin spreads over Steve’s face and his heart skips a beat. “That’s fantastic! Thank you very much.”

* * *

His hand is itching to call Bucky as soon as he’s outside of the bakery, but he can see Kelly watching him through the window and he doesn’t want to look like an idiot, so he jumps into his car and drives a block away before pulling into a parking spot and frantically calling Bucky.

Bucky picks up after the first ring and Steve knows he’s been waiting by the phone. “How did it go?”

“I got the job! I’m starting tomorrow morning!”

Bucky lets out a delighted laugh. “I knew you could do it! That’s wonderful! I’m so proud of you. So tell me everything. What are your shifts gonna be, what are you gonna be doing, what’s Kelly like—I wanna know everything.”


	28. Chapter 28

That whirlwind continues for the rest of the week, but Steve’s loving being swept up by it. He’d texted Sam to tell him about his job and he’d also texted Susan to thank her for getting him the interview. All she asks for in return is for Steve to make her a batch of the candied walnut cupcakes he’d made for Kelly, which Steve happily agrees to.

Steve loves his new job. He learns how to bake different kinds of breads and buns and he can’t get over how neat it is to make a big batch of dough and seeing the dough a few hours later when it’s expanded to three times its size and Steve has to portion it up and load the dozens of trays into the big ovens.

The work is physical but he loves it. He has to lift enormous bags of flour and sugar, empty them into the huge mixers that a child could comfortably sit in and adjust the measurements of everything depending on what type of dough he’s making. He also helps make cookies and learns how to use the large cookie pressing machines that cut out dozens of perfect cookies at a time.

“I ain’t allowed to help with the fancier deserts yet and I ain’t doing the decorating, but Kelly says if I keep doing a good job, she’ll teach me how to do those things too,” he tells Bucky, who never seems to tire of having Steve telling him every single detail of his job and what he learns on every shift.

The bakery is also part of a charity organization that provides free baked goods to other charities in DC, which the charities can use for fundraising. When they have an order to do, it’s all hands on deck and Steve starts at the bakery at midnight to help get all the extra things done, along with the bakery’s normal offerings.

The work is hard but very rewarding. Steve loves being part of the team, he gets along well with his co-workers and his shifts always fly by.

The only change to his daytime routine is not being able to talk to Bucky first thing in the morning. Although Bucky’s usually up at 5:30 or 6:00, Steve’s already started his shift by then and by the time Steve’s done his shift, Bucky’s usually in the middle of something. But that’s okay. They text throughout the day and send each other pictures of things they’re doing and they still talk every evening before they go to bed, even if they had to move things earlier because Steve’s bedtime has changed.

Having a steady job makes Steve feel like he’s finally found his place in today’s world. His days are no longer gaping voids of emptiness. Between his work shifts, his art classes, his running group and spending time with Bucky on the phone or visiting him on the weekends, Steve’s days are full of activity.

Steve finally feels at peace with himself and satisfied with his life, in a way he hasn’t since Bucky had shipped out to the front during the war.

* * *

As Steve settles into his job, he starts getting a little worried about Bucky again. While Bucky loves spending time out at the ranch, Steve knows he’s not happy paying to be there and he hates not having a job.

He’d applied to work at some of the stores in town, but he’s not enthusiastic about it. Even though the stores aren’t ever as busy as the big malls in DC, Bucky thinks he’d find it too overwhelming. There’s the possibility of him stocking shelves or cleaning, which can be done when there aren’t many customers around, but it might still be too much for him. While Bucky’s willing to give it a try and take whatever job comes his way, Steve tells him to hold off and wait a little longer.

“Let’s just see how things go for another month and then we’ll re-assess your options, okay?” Steve tells him while they’re on the phone one evening.

“Okay,” Bucky mumbles, not sounding enthusiastic about it.

Steve knows what Bucky would love to do, but neither of them have any idea how Bucky could go about getting a job at a ranch. Bucky’s already asked around and nobody’s hiring, so that seems to be a dead-end…

…until one weekend when Steve’s phone starts pinging when he’s sprawled out on Bucky’s couch, watching television while Bucky’s at church.

Grinning, Steve digs his phone out of his sweatpants, thinking it’s probably Sam. Whenever Steve’s at Bucky’s, he plays various phone games with Sam throughout the weekend. The one they’re playing now is a word-creating game and Steve’s very pleased with his progress on the current game.

But to his surprise, it’s not Sam or any of the other people who might be texting him on Sunday morning. It’s Bucky…who definitely shouldn’t be texting Steve while he’s at church.

“You’re being bad, Barnes,” Steve mumbles, smirking down at his phone as he opens the message. But the second he sees the message, he knows why Bucky broke his own ‘no texting during service’ rule.

_I got a job at a ranch!!!!!!!_

Blinking, Steve stares at it. “Are you serious?!”

Since Bucky obviously can’t hear him, Steve quickly sends back a string of question marks, hoping Bucky’s willing to break his rule to send at least one more message. Service had only started a few minutes ago and Steve can’t wait more than an hour before he finds out the details.

_People at church have a ranch and one of their people retired. They need help and asked me if I wanted the job!!!!!_

“Oh, my God!”

He tells Bucky that’s fantastic and he’s proud of him. His fingers are itching to ask a million other questions but he doesn’t want Bucky embarrassing himself if he’s caught texting in the middle of service.

Instead, Steve decides to drive to church and wait for Bucky way earlier than he needs to. Just in case service finishes a little earlier than normal, Steve will be right there to ask his million questions as soon as Bucky steps foot out the door.

* * *

Steve’s never been so glad that his phone allows him to play hundreds of different games because it’s the only reason he doesn’t die of impatience before the church doors open and the congregation starts to come out.

Spying Bucky right away—looking gorgeous in his suit and his hair slicked back—Steve’s about to run out of the car, but he sees Bucky talking to some people and they appear to be in a deep conversation, if Bucky’s serious frown is anything to go by.

One of the men is Father Ray but Steve doesn’t recognize the other man or the woman in the group. The man is Hispanic and appears to be middle-aged, while the woman is Caucasian and around the same age. They’re both big, strong looking individuals and from the way they carry themselves, they don’t seem to feel fully comfortable in the fancy duds they’re wearing for church. Those are all signs they’re country folks and Steve thinks they might have something to do with Bucky’s new job.

They talk for a while longer with Bucky smiling and nodding politely. At one point, Bucky takes out his notebook and hands it to the woman, who’s writing something down for him as Bucky frowns with intense concentration. Eventually, she hands the notebook back and Bucky shakes everybody’s hands before they finally part ways and Bucky turns to search for Steve’s car.

The second Bucky’s facing away from the crowd and he’s made eye contact with Steve, he grins and hurries over, yanking the door open. “Did you see ‘em?” Bucky whispers.

Steve laughs but keeps his voice low when he responds. “Of course I did. Get in the car so we can talk normally cause I’m about to die.”

Laughing, Bucky climbs into the car and slams the door shut behind him.

Not wanting to make a scene, Steve pulls away from the church and heads in the direction of Bucky’s home. “So? Tell me everything! Hurry up.”

“The woman’s name is Denise and her husband’s name is Pablo. They own a ranch outside of town and one of their ranch hands decided to retire, so they’re looking for somebody new. Father Ray overheard their conversation with somebody else and told ‘em I’m looking for work. They didn’t like that I ain’t got tons of experience, but they’re willing to give me a try.”

Steve grips the steering wheel hard, his heart racing. “That’s wonderful! What kind of things do they do at the ranch?”

“Denise says they mostly train horses. People bring horses to ‘em and they train ‘em for whatever people want: trail riding, rodeos, working with cattle, all sorts of things. The ranch hands help with the training and they look after the horses. To start with, I’m just gonna be cleaning stalls, doing the feeding, grooming and exercising ‘em.”

“You’re happy with all that?”

Bucky’s grin is brighter than the sun. “Oh, yeah! I know how to do most of that and I can learn whatever I don’t know. Father Ray told ‘em I’d helped out at the rodeo and I told them I’ve been doing lessons for months, so they’re willing to give me a try.”

“That’s amazing! You gonna ride your bike out there?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Nah. They want me to start at 5:30 so I’d need to ride in the dark and that ain’t safe. One of the other ranch hands—Rafael—lives in town and he’ll pick me up and bring me back home.”

Reaching over, Steve grabs Bucky’s hand and jostles it. “Ain’t this amazing, Buck? You’re gonna do so great.”

“And I’m gonna love it! Can you imagine? I’ll get to be outside and working around horses every day!”

* * *

Steve is cautiously optimistic about Bucky’s new job. On one hand, he’s very excited about it and he knows Bucky will do well, but he doesn’t want to be too enthusiastic and make Bucky feel pressured to keep the job if something doesn’t work out.

But after Bucky’s done a few shifts and he’s constantly sending Steve photos during the day and he’s always calling Steve the second he gets home, ready to talk his ear off about everything he’s done during the day, Steve starts to relax.

It never fails to make Steve laugh when he’s walking down a busy city street with tall skyscrapers towering above him and winding his way through the other folks who are hurrying somewhere while he looks down at a photo Bucky’s sent him that shows Bucky standing next to a horse in the middle of a forest or standing on a hill with nothing but wilderness for miles.

* * *

Unfortunately, not all of their days are full of happiness and sunshine.

“Did I ever tell you that God helped me more than Dr. Stewart did? Well, when it relates to Hydra. She helped me with a bunch of stuff, but the Hydra stuff didn’t go well,” Bucky says quietly when they’re on the phone one evening.

Bucky’s had one of his rough days, all a result of the torture and abuse Hydra had put him through. He’d had a nightmare the night before that he hadn’t wanted to discuss when he’d called Steve, he’d had a headache for most of the day and apparently, a horse had stepped on his foot because his headache had distracted him and made it hard to focus.

Steve fluffs up the pillow behind his back and relaxes in his bed. “How did God help you more than Dr. Stewart?”

“She kept telling me that being angry at Hydra wouldn’t help me. I agreed with her cause being angry was a bad use of my energy, but I couldn’t just forget about it. I know God would say I should forgive Hydra for what they did, but I don’t feel right about that. I never have and I don’t think I ever will. They don’t deserve my forgiveness.”

Steve presses his lips together. “But they don’t deserve you wasting your energy on ‘em either.”

Bucky sighs softly. “No. Dr. Stewart said that too. Forgiveness is a good way for people to move on, but I didn’t like that option. Getting justice also ain’t possible cause all the people who hurt me are dead or I don’t know who they are. Anyway, me and Dr. Stewart never really got to a resolution and that whole thing was a loose end for me until I started listening to the Bible. There’s a part in Romans. It’s 12:19.”

There’s a shuffling on Bucky’s end of the line and Steve knows he’s pulling out his notebook.

“It goes ‘Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.’”

Steve smiles. He sees the appeal right away. “Hydra don’t have to pay for what they did now, but God will take care of it for you later.”

Bucky chuckles darkly. “Yeah. I don’t gotta be upset about them getting away with what they did to me. God won’t let them. They’re all getting tickets straight to Hell and they’ll burn forever and that’s a really nice thought. Also, I still don’t agree with God that I gotta forgive ‘em in order to be a good person. I think there’s certain situations a person should forgive others but then there’s—”

“Then there’s what Hydra did to you. Not the same thing.”

“Nope. So I’m choosing not to forgive and I think God would agree that it don’t make me a bad person. But getting back to my point: that Bible verse really did help me. Whenever I have bad days like I did today and it’s all Hydra’s fault, I feel real satisfied knowing that God’ll give ‘em what they deserve.”

Steve grins. “I’m glad that makes you feel good, Buck.”

He hears Bucky sigh softly and he knows he’s smiling, which means he’s feeling better about his terrible day. “So now that I’m done telling you about Bible stuff, you tell me about bakery stuff. How did things go today?”

Smiling, Steve closes his eyes and thinks back over his day, eager to share everything he’d done with Bucky.

* * *

When Steve gets a text from Bucky that asks if Steve’s ‘in the mood for something special’ on his way to art class, he sends back a string of smiley faces and can’t stop grinning during the class.

At first, he’d been worried that the romantic aspect of their relationship would suffer as a result of living apart during the week. The social aspect of their relationship is fine, but the physical distance between them was a bit concerning. But thanks to modern technology and new, naughty inventions, they can still have plenty of fun together, even if they’re not physically in the same place.

Bucky sends him another text: ‘Your choice’ and Steve sends back that he’s a ‘very hungry’, which is their code for deciding who will do what tonight.

They’ve done this often enough now that when Steve gets home, he keeps an eye on the time and gets ready without having to call Bucky to confirm anything. By the time 8:30 rolls around, he’s ready: relaxed and naked on his bed, lying on a towel, with the bottle of lube and the dildo lying next to him.

His phone rings and Steve stuffs his little ear bud into his ear, which wirelessly connects to his phone. Not having Bucky on speaker phone makes things a little more intimate and allows him to keep his hands free…because his hands will be too busy to hold the phone.

“Hey, Barnes.”

Bucky lets out a shaky laugh. “You didn’t change your mind, did you?”

Steve laughs. “I’m naked and my dick’s already half hard, so no, I haven’t.”

There’s a groan. “Don’t say things like that or this is gonna be over before it starts.”

Laughing harder, Steve rolls onto his hands and knees. “Well, then you better stop wasting time.”

He hears shuffling on Bucky’s end of the phone and he knows Bucky’s sitting up, kneeling on the bed and getting ready.

After they’d spend some time just using their own hands, Steve had done some research and discovered that there were tons of options for people who were trying to have a good time by themselves. Steve had bought them both a set of toys: one dildo and one fleshlight and the toys allow them to switch roles whenever they want.

For tonight, Steve’s going to use the dildo and Bucky will be using the fleshlight. Both toys look and feel realistic and if they keep their eyes closed and stay in sync, the result is fantastic.

“I’m getting my fingers lubed up,” Bucky mumbles into the phone.

That’s Steve’s cue to snap open the bottle of lube and cover his fingers.

“Now I’m kneeling right behind you and I’m looking at that gorgeous ass of yours.”

“You know what’s even better than looking at my ass?”

Bucky laughs. “That’s gonna earn you a smack, Rogers.”

Grinning, Steve smacks himself on the ass, doing it hard enough that it stings a little. He know Bucky heard the slap. Even though it was him smacking himself, it still feels good and he lets out a little grunt.

“That felt good, huh? Too good. If you keep sassing me, I’m gonna have to give that ass a couple more smacks next weekend.”

Chuckling, Steve rubs his lubed fingers over the sensitive spot he’d smacked and spreads his knees wider.

“You feel me touching your ass?”

“Uh huh.”

“Good. You know I love touching that ass, squeezing it, feeling how firm it is.”

Steve slides his hand around his ass, squeezing and touching it the way he knows Bucky would be doing if he were here. As long as he keeps his eyes closed, it really feels like Bucky’s the one touching him, talking in his ear.

When they’d first started doing this, they’d struggled to find the right words to use. This isn’t language they’d ever used before, but Bucky had jumped into it with his trademark bravery. He’s a thousand times better at it than Steve, but Steve’s doing his best to get better at it. The results are wonderful and if it’ll keep their relationship strong, Steve will learn whatever he has to. Besides, the more times they do this, the more accustomed they get to this language and it’s no longer embarrassing.

“I could stare at your ass all day, but I’m getting hard looking at that incredible ass and I really wanna get to fucking it. I’m sliding my fingers down your crack and circling your hole.”

Following Bucky’s instructions, Steve slides his lubed fingers down to his hole and lightly circles the puckered opening, feeling it twitch. His breathing is picking up and his body is tingling, his cock starting to ache just from the promise of what’s to come. He knows Bucky’s got his eyes closed too while he’s circling the puckered opening of the fleshlight.

“I can feel it twitching under my fingers. So eager to get my fingers in there, aren’t you?”

Steve hums in agreement. Leaning down, he rests his face on his left arm, spreading his knees as much as he can.

“I’m sliding a finger in…fuck, it’s sliding in so easy. You’re just opening up for me, so easy.”

Steve presses a finger into himself, groaning at how good it feels.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good. Jesus, you feel so warm and tight. I’m sliding another finger in…”

He slides his second finger into his hole. They’ve done this often enough that it’s a little tight, but not uncomfortable. His cock twitches and Steve glances at it to see drops of pre-cum beading in the slit.

“…oh, that feels so damn good. You feel amazing. I’m pumping my fingers, twisting them, getting you nice and loose for my cock. Is your cock leaking for me?”

“Oh…oh yeah.”

Bucky chuckles fondly. “Good. Let’s get you even more wet, I’m getting another finger in there…”

Steve makes a third finger join the others and now he’s really starting to feel it. Heat runs through him as his arousal builds and he pumps the three fingers in and out of his hole.

“Fuck my fingers, go on. Lemme feel it. I wanna feel you clench around my fingers, riding ‘em.”

Shoving his hips back, Steve keeps his fingers still as he thrusts against them, letting out a loud moan against his arm.

“Oh, that feels so fucking good. You’re doing so good. Fuck, you feel so good around my fingers. You feeling good?”

“Ye—yeah. Fuck, yeah,” he gasps out.

“I’m twisting my fingers while you’re fucking them, getting you nice and loose.”

Steve twists his fingers and his cock twitches, making him whine.

“How you doing? You ready for my cock?”

“Oh, yeah. Fuck, you need to get in me.”

Bucky lets out a groan. “I’m taking my fingers out, nice and slow.”

Steve obeys, but whines sadly at the loss.

“I know, I know, but I gotta get my cock ready. You’re gonna get my cock lubed up, okay? Get the lube.”

Not bothering to lift his face from his arm, Steve twists his face enough to see where the lube and the dildo are. His hole and cock both twitch at the sight of it and he fumbles to grab the lube.

“Are you sitting up?”

Steve groans. “No,” he grumbles, staring at the dildo and wishing it could just magically slide into his ass without any work.

“Come on, sit up. The faster you get my cock ready, the faster it’ll be in you.”

Grumbling, Steve sits up and grabs the lube and covers his hand generously. “I got the lube.”

“Good. Get my cock nice and slick…oh…oh, that feels good.”

Steve grabs the dildo and closes his eyes as he rubs lube all over it, squeezing it just the way he knows Bucky likes.

Bucky moans. “Oh, fuck, that feels good. You’re squeezing right under the head, oh, fuck…that feels good.”

It’s actually hard to remember that the dildo he’s holding isn’t the real thing and when Bucky lets out a loud groan and hisses, Steve takes his hand off it as if he’s really the reason Bucky’s getting a little too close to coming.

“Okay, that’s enough. Lie back down, get comfortable.”

Putting his face back on his arm, Steve parts his knees and holds the dildo in his other hand, trembling as he waits.

“I’m rubbing my cock on the crack of your ass. You know I can’t get enough of it. You feel my cock there? You feel how slick it is?”

Steve slides the thick dildo along his ass, moaning at how good it feels. “Oh, I feel it. Feels so good.”

“Now I’m circling your hole with the head of my cock…oh, fuck….oh, that feels good.”

Sliding the dildo down, Steve circles his sensitive rim with the head of the dildo, whining in the back of his throat. He knows Bucky’s circling the rim of the fleshlight with his cock, feeling just as good as Steve is.

“Oh, you’re ready for me, ain’t ya? You’re so loose and wet, you want my cock in you, don’t you? Want me to slide right in there, fill you up?”

Steve lets out a choked whine. “Please. Please, please, please.”

“I’m gonna go slow…just nudge the tip of my cock against your hole and just push real gentle…just barely breaching your rim…”

The smooth head of the cock slots into his hole and he applies just a little pressure, feeling it sliding into him. He lets out a happy groan.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you? Fuck, you feel so good, so wet and warm. You’re ready for my cock now, aren’t you?”

“Ye-yeah. Please,” Steve whispers against his arm, his breath warming his face as he pants into the towel beneath him.

“I’m sliding my cock into you, nice and slow, but you’re so slick and you’re taking my cock so well that I’m just sliding right in…”

Bucky’s cock slides into him, filling him up. “Oh…oh that’s…fuck…” he gasps out.

Bucky lets out a sob. “Fuck, you feel amazing. I’m sliding all the way in…fuck…it’s so tight and warm, you’re incredible.”

Bucky’s cock keeps sliding as he talks until his balls rest against Steve’s ass. He clenches around Bucky’s cock, loving how full he feels.

“You tell me when you’re ready,” Bucky gasps out.

“I’m…I’m…move, please…” Steve mumbles.

“I’m starting slow…just little thrusts…” Bucky says, his breath choppy.

Bucky’s cock starts to thrust into him, keeping time with Bucky’s hitched breathing. Steve groans at how good it feels.

There’s nothing but the sound of Bucky’s hitched breathing, his own gasps and the feel of Bucky’s cock fucking him, until Bucky chokes out that he’s gonna fuck him harder.

The speed of Bucky’s thrusts speed up, fucking him hard and it sends sparks of arousal racing through him, making Steve cry out.

“You’re doing so good…” Bucky gasps out, fucking Steve in time with his choppy breathing. “You’re taking my cock so good…you feel amazing…fuck, this is incredible…”

His entire world has narrowed down to Bucky’s words, his cock fucking him, his breath gasping in Steve’s ear and Steve’s tense, shaking body and aching cock.

“Tell me when you’re ready…oh, fuck…ready to come. Tell me.”

“Uh….uh huh,” Steve gasps out.

Bucky’s fucking him hard, keeping up that relentless pace that’s building Steve’s arousal to higher and higher heights.

He can feel when things start to change and his body tenses up, wanting to come. “I’m—I’m gonna come,” he mumbles.

Bucky groans. “You need a hand on your cock? Or can you come without it?”

Steve briefly assesses and he thinks tonight is one of those times he can do it. “I can do it, just…don’t just fucking me. Please.”

“I won’t, I promise. You need it harder, don’t you? You need it just a little harder. I’m fucking you even harder now, I’m really letting you feel it…”

Bucky’s cock fucks him harder and faster, his balls smacking against Steve’s ass and Steve keens, knowing this is exactly what he needs.

“That…good? Oh, fuck…fuck, that feels so good…you’re…you’re taking my cock so well…”

The relentless pace continues until finally, Steve’s body seizes up and he lets out a high-pitched whine.

“You coming? I wanna feel you come on my cock, come on.”

With Bucky still fucking him hard, Steve’s orgasm hits him and his cock twitches, spurting warm wetness on his stomach and making him let out choppy moans.

“That’s good, you’re doing so good. Fuck, you’re coming on my cock and you look amazing.”

His orgasm seems to last forever and Bucky fucks him through it. When he’s done, he’s a shaking, gasping mess and his arm is sweating where he’s been breathing on it, but Bucky hasn’t come yet.

“Lemme feel you come,” Steve mumbles, as Bucky’s cock keeps fucking him.

Strangely, the pace isn’t as hard as it had been before, but Steve knows Bucky’s close and clenches around his cock.

Bucky groans and it only takes a few more thrusts until he lets out a soft groan and Steve knows he’s coming. Smiling against his arm, Steve milks Bucky’s cock gently with his ass.

“You’re doing good, Buck. Filling me up with your cum, it feels so good,” he mumbles.

For a few seconds, the only sound is Bucky’s gasping, then Steve hears a shift. “Jesus fucking Christ…I’m gonna pull out, okay?”

That’s when things get confusing…because Bucky says he’s pulling out, but nothing happens. His cock is still in Steve’s ass. Steve waits a little while, but when nothing happens, he chuckles against his arm. “Did you change your mind and you’re gonna live in my ass?”

Bucky chuckles, still gasping for breath. “Open your eyes, Stevie. Don’t sit up, but just look around.”

Steve opens his eyes…and that’s when reality sets back in.

Bucky’s not in the room with him. Bucky had never been in the room with him. Because Bucky’s in Virginia; many, many miles away.

When Steve had first started getting lost in the fantasy they created, he’d feel disappointed and sad that Bucky wasn’t there with him, but that’s faded. He gets to see Bucky every single weekend and doing things in a virtual way like this is enough to last him during the week.

Chuckling, Steve gropes behind himself and slowly pulls the dildo out, groaning as he drops it on the towel next to him. He stretches out his legs, groaning at how stiff they feel as he sprawls out on the towel.

Bucky laughs weakly. “Did you take it out?”

“Yup.”

“I’m really impressed with you, you know that? The fact that you’ve trained your arm to keep moving the dildo even when you forget it’s not really me fucking you. I ain’t there yet. Sometimes I drop my hand from the dildo and then I wonder why it ain’t moving.”

Steve smiles into his arm. “You need more practice,” he says, yawning.

“You bet I do. Thursday?”

His smile widening, Steve nods, then remembers Bucky can’t see him. “Deal. I promise to keep that dildo fucking you the whole time.”

Bucky laughs, but it turns into a yawn. “Damn, we did good.”

“Yup. Good job us. Making the world proud,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes.

“Are you as half dead as I am?”

“Yeah. I should clean up.”

“So should I.”

“But I’m not gonna.”

Bucky chuckles. “Me neither. That’s for tomorrow. D’you need to plug in your phone?”

Steve fumbles for his phone on the bedside table and checks the battery. “Nope, it’s good. Do you?”

There’s shifting on the phone, before Bucky makes a negative noise. “It’s fine. Alright, time for you to sleep, Rogers. Your alarm’s set, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“Okay. I’m gonna pray and then I’m falling asleep too. Have a good day at work tomorrow.”

“You too. Don’t get kicked,” Steve mumbles.

Bucky chuckles warmly. “To the first one: ‘I will’, and to the second one: ‘I won’t’. Good night, Stevie. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Steve mutters.

For the millionth time, Steve is grateful for modern day technology because he doesn’t have to hang up the phone. He just has to take his ear piece out, drop it on the bedside table and he can sprawl back out and fall asleep.


	29. Chapter 29

A month later, Bucky calls Steve shortly after his shift is finished, which is unusual. But when Steve hears what Bucky has to say, he understands why Bucky was too excited to put his news into a text message.

“They’re giving me the job permanently and they’re gonna let me live on the ranch!”

“Really?! That’s great!”

The only thing that’s still been bothering both of them was that Bucky hadn’t been happy living in town. Being outside all day at the ranch in the wide open spaces is wonderful, but it had made him dislike his home even more. His landlady is lovely, but the lack of big windows and being in the middle of town hadn’t made Bucky feel good. But living out at the ranch would be a dream come true for him.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Buck! When are you moving? You need help? I can call in sick for—”

“No, no, don’t do that. I know you guys are doing the charity bake in a couple of days and you should use your energy on that. I’ll be fine. I don’t got a lot of stuff and Rafael’s gonna help me.”

“Okay. So are you gonna get to live in one of the little log houses?”

Bucky’s sent Steve a million photos of the ranch and although Steve hasn’t come out there in person yet, he feels like he knows the place inside and out. The main ranch house where Denise and Pablo live and the smaller houses where the permanent ranch hands live are all made out of logs and look exactly like what Steve pictures ranch houses looking like.

“Yeah! I get the one on the left side, when you’re facing the barn.”

Steve knows exactly what he’s talking about. “I can picture it! Oh, that’s so exciting! Did you look inside yet?”

“Yeah, I took a quick peek before Rafael drove me home last night. It reminds me of our old apartment in Brooklyn. It’s real small and cozy.”

Steve smiles. “Yeah? But you have electricity, right?”

“Oh, yeah. But there’s a wood burning stove, just like we used to have. It’s got a little kitchen area, a bed, a closet, a table and a nice couch. There’s a tiny bathroom too and it’s got running water—hot water too! So really, it’s luxury compared to what we had back in the day.”

Laughing, Steve lets out a grateful breath. This will be perfect for Bucky. Enough of modern conveniences that he doesn’t have to work as hard to make his home comfortable as they had in the past, but still basic enough that it’ll appeal to Bucky’s desire for a simple life.

“It’s even got a covered porch and there’s a porch swing out there so I can be outside when it’s raining.”

“How are the windows?”

“Oh, that’s the best part! It’s got windows on all four walls so I can look outside all the time, if I wanna. I can’t wait!”

Steve smiles, his heart glowing at how happy Bucky sounds. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Me too! I’ll take pictures of everything once I’ve put all my stuff in.”

“Okay. Good luck with the move and call me tonight, okay?”

“I will. Have fun eating dinner and watching movies at Sam’s and tell him I say hi. Take pictures of whatever you’re eating cause I wanna see.”

Steve laughs. “I will.”

* * *

Steve’s phone rings as he’s making the left turn to take him out of town and onto the bypass road that’ll lead to Bucky’s ranch, and his car cheerfully informs him that Bucky’s calling him.

Grinning, Steve hits the button on his steering wheel that answers the call. “Hey.”

“Why ain’t you here yet?”

Steve laughs. “Cause I got stuck behind four horse trailers and had to wait to pass each and every one of them. Since some of ‘em are probably your neighbors, I didn’t wanna be a jerk and blow past them at the speed of light.”

“Did you leave town yet?”

“You mean: did I stop and get us vanilla milkshakes from the diner yet? Yeah, they’re right here. Did you need anything else? I can go back.”

Bucky still isn’t allowed to drive and he usually does his grocery shopping when Steve gives him a ride into town on Sundays for church. But sometimes he’ll run low on something and ask Steve to get it when he’s driving up on Fridays.

“Nah, I’m fine. I’m just impatient for you to get here.”

Steve chuckles. “You’re just anxious to get your milkshakes, Barnes.”

Bucky laughs. “I ain’t gonna lie; I’m excited about those, but they’re a distant, _distant_ second compared to wanting to see you.”

Smiling softly, Steve presses his lips together. “I’ll be there real soon.”

His stomach is doing excited flips, as it usually does when he’s driving to see Bucky on Fridays. The anticipation usually starts to get bad on Wednesdays; Thursdays are hard and the first half of Friday are damn near impossible. Steve always struggles to pay attention during his shift on Fridays because he knows that as soon as he’s done, he can jump into his car and drive out to Virginia to spend time with Bucky until he has to drive back on Sunday afternoon.

The routine works well for them and they’ve both settled into it. During his first few months of working and living at the ranch, Bucky hadn’t wanted to create an awkward situation by having Steve spend the entire weekend at the ranch. The ranch crew is very religious, and while that fits well with most of Bucky’s life, his relationship with Steve has always been seen as a problem.

It had been heartbreaking for Bucky to discover that his employers looked down on their relationship but Steve hadn’t wanted Bucky to quit just on principle. He’d reasoned with him that Steve doesn’t live out there, he doesn’t _want_ to live out there and he honestly doesn’t care if Bucky’s employers don’t like him just because of their relationship. They treat Bucky well, Bucky loves his job and that’s what’s most important. So for the first few months, Steve would pick Bucky up from the ranch on Friday afternoons and they’d spend the weekend in town, sleeping at the motel. Deep down, Steve did resent Denise and Pablo for being against him purely out of religious principle, but he’d done his best to hide those feelings from Bucky.

Eventually, Bucky had talked to Father Ray about the issue during one of their long chats that the two of them frequently have over the phone. Father Ray must have taken it upon himself to put in a good word with Bucky’s employers because just a few days later, Denise and Pablo had summoned Bucky for a meeting at the main house and told him they would allow Steve to stay at the ranch from Friday through Sunday, as long as they both behaved ‘appropriately’.

It does annoy Steve that Rafael’s wife is allowed to visit whenever she wants and he’s seen them holding hands and kissing in full view of everybody else, but again—he doesn’t want to make things awkward for Bucky by calling Denise and Pablo out on their ridiculous attitudes. Even if Steve doesn’t like either of them too much, he doesn’t have to. They treat Bucky well, they respect him for the work he does and they’re always happy to help him with various things, like putting new music and books on his music player for him, driving him to his monthly doctor appointments and to the pharmacy to get his seizure medication re-filled. Pablo had even taught Bucky how to drive—despite the fact that legally, Bucky still shouldn’t be driving—using the old pick-up truck that always stays on the ranch. Whenever Bucky has a day when he suffers from bad headaches or gets overwhelmed with something, he’s always allowed to take the rest of the day off without being docked any pay.

The fact that Steve’s relationship with Bucky is something Denise and Pablo can’t get past is just something he has to live with. As long as Bucky’s happy being there, Steve will keep his mouth shut and he’ll be the perfect guest whenever he’s at the ranch.

Besides, Steve’s sure that eventually, he’ll win both of them over. He always brings Bucky baked goods from the bakery when he comes and he’d started bringing things for everybody at the ranch, figuring everybody likes free food and maybe that would elevate their opinion of him. He pays for everything out of his own pocket and brings plenty for everybody, having taken note of what everybody likes and always making sure he brings a week’s worth of everybody’s favorites when he comes. It’s not something he’d do for just anybody, but he knows Bucky’s desperately hoping his co-workers and employers will grow to accept Steve and this is one small thing that Steve can do to push things in the right direction.

Besides, being out at the ranch is generally a pleasant experience. Steve’s made it clear that he’s willing to put in work when he’s there and that’s all the ranch hands seem to care about. As for Denise and Pablo, Steve rarely sees them anyway and what he and Bucky do in the privacy of Bucky’s home is their business.

“Where are you now?” Bucky demands.

Steve laughs and glances around himself. “I’m passing the old green barn.”

Bucky lets out a sigh. “Okay.”

Steve knows that Bucky’s waiting right by the ranch’s entry-way—a big wooden archway that has the name of the ranch on it and is the start of the long dirt road that leads up to the ranch houses, the barn and the round pens used for training.

“I can’t see you yet,” Bucky grumbles.

“Your eagle eyes have to wait a few more seconds, Barnes.” Steve’s foot presses on the gas pedal a little harder but he pretends not to notice.

He keeps his eyes peeled on the right side of the road and he finally sees the wooden archway in the distance, standing out against the expanse of never-ending fields and sky that surround him. “You see me now? I can see the arch.”

“Oh, there you are! Yeah, I see you!”

Glancing at his speedometer and his mirrors to make sure there’s nobody around, Steve presses the pedal down even more and races towards Bucky. As the archway grows bigger, Steve peers into the distance and finally sees Bucky practically standing on the road, wearing his cowboy hat and waving.

“I’m hanging up now, Barnes.”

“Okay. Drive faster!”

Laughing, Steve hangs up the phone as he reaches Bucky. He yanks the car into the ranch’s driveway. Putting the car into park, he doesn’t even manage to undo his seatbelt before Bucky’s yanking the door open and grabbing him in a tight hug, his cowboy hat falling off in his enthusiasm.

As usual, the first thing Steve smells is the strong scent of manure that’s a permanent part of the ranch and also Bucky, but when he wraps his arms tightly around Bucky and presses his nose into his neck, he also smells Bucky’s familiar scent underneath. The stench of manure usually only bothers him for a few hours until he stops smelling it.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve mumbles into Bucky’s plaid shirt, overwhelmed with how good he feels. No matter how much they talk during the week, it’s not a replacement for physically being with Bucky. Living apart is necessary for both of them and they’re used to it, but Fridays are always wonderful.

“Hey, Stevie Town-Mouse.”

Steve smiles. “How you doing, Country-Mouse? You certainly smell like a country mouse, so that’s good.”

Bucky laughs and pulls back, grinning at Steve and his eyes shining. He’s a lot more tanned than Steve these days and Steve’s not embarrassed to admit that Bucky’s stronger than him now. From head to toe, Bucky Barnes is healthy and strong, looking every bit the cowboy that he’s become.

Well, except one detail. “Gimme me a kiss and then get your damn hat off the ground. What kind of a cowboy are you, huh?”

Bucky laughs again but doesn’t waste a second, grabbing Steve’s face and kissing him hard.

Steve tangles his hands in Bucky’s shirt and keeps him close, groaning as he returns the kiss. “I love you,” he whispers against Bucky’s lips and feels Bucky’s lips curl into a smile as he kisses Steve.

“I love you too.” With a heavy sigh, Bucky pulls back, staring at Steve. It’s something Bucky often does, and Steve just lets him stare, smiling softly.

When Bucky’s looked his fill, he grabs his hat off the ground, dusts it off and puts it back on. “Alright, Rogers. Let’s get going. I need my milkshake.”

Going around to the passenger side door, Bucky lets himself in and grabs the milkshake with one hand while slamming the door with the other.

Steve chuckles as he starts driving up the dirt road and listens to Bucky slurping his drink. While he drives, he feels Bucky reach over and pull Steve’s right hand off the steering wheel so he can tangle their fingers together—flesh and metal—while the ranch houses slowly come into view.

Steve hears Bucky’s slurping stop as he sits up straight with a jerk. “Hey! You kept the little dog in the car!”

Grinning, Steve knows Bucky’s talking about the little wooden dog carving that Bucky had given him last weekend. Steve had put it on his dashboard for his drive home and he’d decided he really likes having it there and that’s where the little dog has stayed. “Yep. It keeps an eye on me while I’m driving.”

“You really like it?” Bucky sounds unsure and Steve squeezes his metal hand.

“Of course I do! It looks real nice and I love that you made it for me. I’m happy that anybody walking past my car can see it.”

Bucky had recently taken up wood carving to fill his evenings with more activities. Talking to Steve and listening to books is fine, but he’d complained to Steve that he doesn’t have much to do when it’s pouring rain and he’s forced to spend more time indoors. The idea to do wood carvings had occurred to Steve when he’d watched one of his co-workers carving chocolate decorations for cake slices and he’d suggested it to Bucky. To their pleasant surprise, Bucky had fallen in love with it and had quickly moved from carving simple little shapes to making a wooden cross that he’d put on his wall. That had gone so well that he’d moved on to making little animals and he always shares his progress with Steve by sending him photos of his various creations. Steve had loved the little dog carving when he’d seen it in the photos and Bucky had given to him as a gift last weekend.

Bucky grins at him. “I’m halfway done that big horse head carving. You can see it when you’re inside.”

“I can’t wait to see it in person.”

Pulling up to the cluster of wooden log cabins, Steve parks in front of Bucky’s house and opens his trunk to take out the bags of baked goods he’d brought.

Bucky’s poking through the bags and Steve knows he’s looking for his brownies.

“Here they are! Hello, my delicious treats!” Prying open the lid, Bucky takes out a brownie and takes an enormous bite, washing it down with sips of vanilla milkshake and grinning.

Steve laughs at the look on his face as he grabs Bucky’s bags and carries them to the door. “You and your sweet tooth, Barnes. Jesus.”

Opening the door, Steve steps into the tiny log cabin and brings the bags to the small kitchen area and puts them on the counter. The small home is filled with sunshine; the light streaming in through each of the big windows on each of the four walls.

Bucky laughs through the open door and Steve hears the rustle of him looking through the other bags. “You want me to bring the others their stuff?”

“Are you busy? What’s your plan for today?”

Unlike Saturday and Sunday, when Bucky is allowed to do whatever he wants, Fridays are work days and Steve doesn’t want to be a reason why Bucky can’t get his work done.

“I gotta work with Peanut a little but we can go for a ride after. I started breaking Peanut in yesterday and I wanna see if I can get a saddle on him today.”

Taking out the loaves of bread from the bag, Steve puts them into Bucky’s bread bag that hangs next to the fridge. “You go do that. I’ll put everything away, get changed and come find you.”

“Okay.”

There’s the sound of running feet and then Bucky’s arms are wrapping around Steve. Laughing, Steve turns around in Bucky’s arms and wraps his arms around his waist.

Bucky tips his hat up and kisses Steve softly. “You’re my favorite person in the world.”

Steve smiles against his lips and buries his face in Bucky’s neck. “Well, I gotta share that honor with you, cause you’re my favorite person in the world.”

They could stand there forever, but they’ll have plenty of time for cuddling later. Smacking Bucky on the ass, Steve untangles himself. “Get outta here. Peanut needs some of your attention before I steal it all.”

His eyes shining, Bucky pulls his hat back down and grins at him. “Come find me when you’re ready.”

“I will.”

After Bucky leaves, Steve puts their milkshakes into the fridge and finishes putting away all the goodies he’d bought Bucky. He discreetly checks the cupboards, shelves and Bucky’s little fridge, making note of anything that Bucky’s running low on and checking it against Bucky’s shopping list pinned to the fridge. Usually Bucky does a good job writing down things he’ll need to buy when they go to town on Sundays, but sometimes he’ll forget to write something down and he’ll forget that he hadn’t written it down and he’ll end up having to live without the item for a week, which annoys him. Steve likes to avoid that frustration by discreetly checking on his supplies and finding casual ways to remind Bucky that he’s running low on something before they leave for town on Sunday.

After he’s done checking through Bucky’s supplies, he steps around the small table and eagerly checks on the wood carvings sitting along one of the large window sills. Some of them are still lumps of wood that will eventually be turned into beautiful creations but Steve’s eyes catch on two small horses that Bucky had spent forever working on. One of them has a bit of a gimped leg because it had broken off while Bucky had worked on it and he’d had to glue it back on. But the carving that really catches his attention is a large horse head carving that’s as big as Steve’s hand.

Carefully picking it up, Steve gently runs his fingers over the pointed ears and the beginning of the horse’s mane. Bucky’s carving it from the top down and it appears he’d started working on the eyes from the last time he’d sent Steve a photo.

“You’re a damn talented fella, Barnes,” Steve mumbles, smiling as he rubs his thumb over the soft wood. Putting the horse head back on the sill, Steve decides not to waste any more daylight and heads over to the closet.

Pulling it open, he takes out a pair of jeans and one of Bucky’s plaid shirts. His own clothes aren’t used to the rough treatment of working at the ranch and Bucky had reasoned that it’s silly for Steve to make his own clothes dirty when Bucky’s clothes are right there.

His city clothes get put into the closet and Steve puts on his ranch uniform. Checking that he has his sunglasses, he stops at the front door to toe off his running shoes and put on the pair of boots that he keeps here. “Alright, country life, here I come.”

Now that he’s dressed properly, he goes back out to his car and gets the other bags of baked goods and stops by each log cabin one by one, opening the unlocked doors and putting the respective owner’s goodies on their table. He always saves the main house for last. A part of him always hopes that Denise and Pablo aren’t in when he knocks on the door…

…but he’s not that lucky today. Denise opens the door when he knocks and he sees the familiar, strained smile on her face when she recognizes him. “Hi, Denise.”

“Hi, Steve.”

He lifts his bags. “I have your bread and goodies.”

The smile softens a little bit. Not much, but it’s progress. “Thank you.”

“I got a lot more of those chocolate croissants that Pablo really loved last week. I made ‘em myself this morning.”

The smile brightens even more. “Oh, really? He’ll love that. Thank you.”

Steve hands over the bags and is about to say goodbye and leave, when Denise puts the bags down and tells him to wait a minute and disappears.

Frowning, Steve stays where he is.

She’s back a moment later, holding an old cowboy hat in her hand.

Steve’s assuming that she’s going to walk down the barn and she’s guessed that’s where he’s heading, except he knows that’s not her hat and she’s never voluntarily walked anywhere with Steve.

To his surprise, Denise holds the hat out towards him. “This is for you, if you want it. I know you don’t need it in the city, but when you’re here, you can wear it.”

Steve’s eyebrows fly up. He knows by now that cowboy hats aren’t just efficient head gear to wear when out in the sun all day. These hats embody horse country culture and wearing one comes with expectations. In addition, being given a hat—especially an old one that’s been broken in and cared for by somebody else—is a sign that the receiver has earned that person’s respect. The locals always make fun of tourists who buy fancy, expensive hats at the stores and don’t know how to break them in or take care of them. It’s one of the reasons Steve’s never bought himself a hat and he’s never even thought about wearing one. Gaping at the hat, Steve doesn’t know what to say. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Take it.”

Steve gently takes the hat out of her grasp and stares at it. Having played with Bucky’s hat a million times, it feels familiar in his hands and he automatically puts it on, settling it on his head.

Denise is frowning at him. “Does it fit?”

Grinning, Steve smiles. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her smile has softened even more and she looks Steve up and down and nods to herself, as if she’s satisfied with what she sees. “Good. Bucky’s gonna work with Peanut for a bit and you’ll be helping with the mucking out.”

It’s not stated as a question and despite the brusque nature of her order, it makes Steve feel good. At the beginning, Denise and Pablo had ignored Steve’s presence completely, so being treated as just another ranch hand is a big step up. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. You can go for a ride once all your chores are done.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you for the bread, Steve. And the chocolate crescent things.”

He doesn’t correct her. “You’re welcome. Thank you for the hat. I’ll take good care of it.”

She stares at him. “Just make sure you take as good care of the hat as you do Bucky and I’ll be happy.”

That’s one of the kindest things she’s ever said to him and Steve tries to keep his grin under control. “I will, ma’am.”

“Good. Now get going.” Without another word, she shuts the door, leaving Steve standing there, staring at the closed door and wearing a cowboy hat.

A real cowboy hat that he’s apparently earned the right to wear. Letting his grin grow, Steve hurries off in the direction of the round pens, excited to show Bucky.

Unfortunately, when he finds Bucky, he sees he’s already hard at work and Steve can’t show him the hat right away, but that’s alright. Watching Bucky working with the horses is still a sight that fills Steve with awe, no matter how often he sees it.

Bucky’s standing in the middle of the pen, slowly spinning around as he watches a young horse running in circles around him, connected to Bucky through a long lunge line that’s clipped to the horse’s halter. The brown horse is breathing loudly as it runs, its tail streaming behind it.

Steve recognizes Rafael standing outside the pen and he steps up beside him, leaning against the wooden rail. “Hi, Rafael,” Steve says, keeping his voice low so he doesn’t spook the horse.

Rafael shoots him a smile from under the brim of his cowboy hat. “Hello, Steve. Thank you for the bread and the blueberry pie,” he says quietly, his accent thicker at the low volume.

Steve grins. “You’re welcome.”

“That’s a nice hat.”

Feeling proud, Steve’s grin widens. “Thank you. Denise gave it to me.”

“I know. She told Bucky she would give you the hat. She told him not to tell you so it’s a surprise.”

Well, that’s news to Steve. Grinning at Bucky through the wooden fence, Steve feels his heart glow. He knows it must have killed Bucky not to tell Steve, but he’s glad he kept the surprise.

Relaxing against the wooden rails, Steve watches Bucky working. Bucky’s standing in the middle of the pen, the line in one hand and a long whip in the other. As Peanut runs in circles, Bucky keeps his eyes on him and whenever the horse slows down or tries turning around, Bucky makes soft sounds and gently flicks the whip along the ground at the horse’s feet, keeping him moving in the direction Bucky wants. The horse is drenched in sweat and its nostrils are flaring, all signs that they’ve been at it for a while.

It always amazed Steve that Bucky can turn in constant circles without getting dizzy or having his arms fall off when he does this type of work. He watches quietly, sawdust floating around him as the horse’s hooves pound through the thick sawdust chips filling the pen. From time to time, Bucky will raise the line and the whip, forcing Peanut to turn around and run the other way.

Steve knows the whole purpose of this is to tire Peanut out and also make Peanut get accustomed to listen to humans. Sure enough, one of Peanut’s ears is constantly pointed at Bucky, listening to him.

Eventually, Bucky starts tugging on the line. “Woah, woah, woah, Peanut. That’s a good boy. Time to slow down. Woah, woah…”

Peanut doesn’t seem to like or understand the order and keeps running as Bucky gradually shortens the line, coming closer to him. The tugging eventually forces Peanut to slow to a trot, then a walk and gradually stop, with Bucky standing just a few feet from him.

Peanut’s breathing hard, his nostrils flaring and his ears are directed at Bucky, listening to him. He stamps his feet and Steve can’t help but jump a little. But Bucky isn’t concerned and continues his slow walk up to Peanut, spooling in the line and talking to him in a soft voice.

When Bucky reaches Peanut, he holds his hand out and Peanut first shifts around, throwing his head up, but when Bucky keeps his hand still and quietly murmurs to him, Peanut eventually snuffles Bucky’s hand.

“Good boy, that’s a good boy. See? That’s not scary, is it? Good boy.”

Bucky gently touches Peanut’s nose and despite tensing, Peanut allows it. Moving slowly, Bucky rubs his hand over Peanut’s head, talking to him the whole time.

Steve grins as he watches him, feeling proud of Bucky. He can’t believe that this is the same Bucky Barnes he’d found a year ago, sitting on a sidewalk, starving and confused. Not only is it great to see Bucky looking healthy and happy, but it’s amazing to see that Bucky’s fully confident with what he’s doing and he’s also really good at it.

Over the next hour, Bucky manages to take Peanut through several other important steps—allowing Bucky to touch his neck and back, putting a saddle blanket on him and eventually, putting the saddle on him. It doesn’t all go smoothly and Peanut has a temper tantrum and throws off the saddle the first time, but after some more running around, the second try goes better.

Bucky even manages to get the saddle done up properly—with Steve holding his breath as Bucky has to bend down next to the tense, annoyed horse to grab the girth dangling from the other side of the saddle. Once the saddle’s done up, Peanut is again displeased, but after running around in circles for a while longer, he seems to settle into it, and that’s when Bucky decides to end today’s session and take the saddle off. He rubs Peanut’s face and feeds him a carrot he pulls out of his jacket, praising him for doing a great job.

“Okay, we’re ready to come out,” Bucky calls over.

That’s Steve and Rafael’s cues to open the door of the pen and as Bucky leads Peanut out, he notices Steve for the first time. “Hey! How long were you watching?”

Steve grins. “I just missed the first bit of lunging. I saw you put on the saddle and everything. You guys did so good!”

Bucky’s smiling, his eyes shining beneath his cowboy hat. “Thanks! Peanut did great. I think tomorrow’s gonna be his first riding lesson.”

“Hopefully, it won’t also be his first lesson on how to throw humans off him.”

Bucky chuckles and Steve falls into step beside him as they walk to the barn, Bucky between Steve and Peanut.

“By the way—nice hat, Rogers.”

Steve laughs. “Don’t even pretend you didn’t know about it. Rafael told me you knew and didn’t tell me.”

“I’m good at keeping secrets when the secret’s gonna make you feel good. You like the hat?”

Reaching up, Steve brushes the rim of the hat. “I love it.”

“You can keep it here, if you want. There’s no point in bringing it all the way to DC.”

“Thanks, Buck.”

Once they reach the barn, Bucky ties Peanut up to give him a bath and Steve heads into the barn with Rafael to help muck out stalls.

By the time he’s done a few stalls, Bucky appears outside the stall door, leaning against the metal bars with a pitchfork in his hands. “Peanut’s done. I’ll be next door.”

Steve lifts another forkful of manure, wet hay and sawdust and shakes it to lose as much clean sawdust as possible before flipping the remainders into the wheelbarrow in the door. “Okay. Pull the wheelbarrow out into the aisle.”

“Yup.” Grabbing the wheelbarrow, Bucky pulls it out of the door and Steve hears him clipping a lead rope onto the horse in the stall next door to tie it up in the aisle while he cleans its stall.

Steve works quietly, sawdust swirling around him and a thin sheen of sweat on his face. As usual, the smell of manure has become barely noticeable, despite his close proximity to it. He doesn’t mind doing the work, but he’s also not in love with it like Bucky is. The horses still scare him a bit and while he enjoys riding, he doesn’t love it with the same intensity that Bucky does. But that’s okay. He likes being a weekend cowboy, and he especially likes spending time with Bucky in an environment where he’s happy.

Once they’re done the stalls, it’s time for their favorite Friday event: going for a ride.

Grabbing a lead rope, Steve heads down the aisle to find Daisy, the old grey horse who’s his regular riding companion. She’s a very mild-tempered horse and acts as a role model whenever younger horses need a demonstration of how to do something properly. She’s also the perfect choice for Steve to ride and always keeps her composure, even if whatever horse Bucky’s riding has a temper tantrum.

Reaching her stall, he grins. “Hey, Daisy. Hello, beautiful lady.”

She raises her head, munching on a mouthful of hay and her ears flick towards him as Steve opens the stall door.

“Hey, you. You ready to go for a ride?”

She snuffles softly and flares her nostrils, which Steve will assume is a ‘yes’. Clipping the lead rope to her halter, he leads her out to the front of the barn, ties her up and goes to get brushes.

Bucky’s already grooming his own horse, a tall, black horse who Steve recognizes. “You’re riding Comet again?”

“Yep. I’ve been working with him all week and I promise, we ain’t gonna have a repeat of last weekend’s temper tantrum.”

Steve laughs. “Does Comet know that it ain’t gonna happen?”

Bucky chuckles as he leans over to brush Comet’s belly. “Oh, he knows. He and I had a very long talk last night.”

Once they finished tacking up their horses and Bucky’s checked that Steve’s done everything up right, they walk their horses out of the barn. Bucky keeps Comet’s reins slung over his arm and holds onto Daisy’s reins while Steve climbs on and he keeps holding the reins until Steve has grabbed them and gotten his feet into the stirrups.

“You good?” Bucky asks him, looking up at him.

Steve nods. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Okay.” Bucky mounts Comet and grabs the reins. “Ready?”

“Yep. Let’s go!”

Making a soft clucking noise, Steve gently squeezes his heels into Daisy’s sides and they start moving, both horses walking side by side.


	30. Chapter 30

The first test of Comet’s mood comes when they reach the gate that separates the fenced in areas at the ranch from the rest of the fields and forests where they usually go riding. Steve stops Daisy a little before the gate and lets Bucky get ahead, apprehensively watching Comet as Bucky leans down to open the gate. When Comet only tosses his head a little but walks through calmly, Steve lets out a sigh of relief.

Once Bucky’s through, Steve guides Daisy—or really, Daisy guides herself—through the gate and waits for Bucky to close it behind him. That goes well too and then they’re facing nothing but open fields with small patches of forest in the distance.

Bucky lets out a big, happy sigh. “Ain’t this awesome?”

Steve smiles, glancing at Bucky’s grin as they walk side by side. “Yeah, it is.”

To be honest, the silence out here still feels weird, but Steve’s gradually getting accustomed to it. He usually distracts himself by listening to Bucky chatting, Daisy snorting and the horses hooves thudding across the dirt and grass beneath them.

“So how did your word game with Sam go today?” Bucky asks him.

Steve grins, playing with the leather reins in his hand. “Oh, I got a good one! I made the word ‘art’ and Sam turned it into ‘quart’ and I made it into ‘quarter’.”

Bucky laughs. “How did Sam not see that one?”

“I think he wasn’t paying attention, or he was being kind to me.”

“I’ve always liked Wilson.”

Steve chuckles. “So Peanut did really well today, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s coming along real well. I’m pretty sure I’ll be riding him tomorrow, and maybe next week, he can come for a trail ride with us.”

“Daisy, you hear that? We’ll have another nut case to put up with next weekend. The things us old timers have to put up with, huh?”

Bucky laughs. “I’m still a year older than you, Rogers, so what does that make me?”

Steve grins. “Older than dirt. I’ll get it printed on a shirt for you and you can wear it with pride.”

That makes Bucky laugh harder.

They spend a few hours riding around and it’s as wonderful as it always is. The fact that Steve’s riding a horse isn’t the big highlight for him and he’s sure Bucky knows that, which is why he never pushes Steve to ride a more difficult horse.

They cross the large field and enter the forest, the horses crunching over dry leaves and sticks as birds chirp around them. Fall is coming and Steve notices the leaves on the trees have started changing shades, their green having given way to blends of red, yellow and orange. They stop at a little creek where the horses have a drink and Comet makes a bit of a fuss when it comes time to crossing it, but he makes it across.

Once they’re out of the woods and back out in a big field, Bucky takes Comet for a run, running in big circles around Steve and going back and forth between Steve and the distant woods. He never minds that Steve doesn’t feel comfortable going that fast and prefers to lumber along with Daisy at a leisurely walk. For Steve, the ride is pleasant and he enjoys watching Bucky running around much more than doing the running himself. Whenever Bucky’s close by, they walk side by side and talk about whatever comes into their heads, just like they do over the phone when they’re living in two different states.

Eventually, they reach a big tree by the edge of another forest patch, which they always refer to as ‘their tree’. The branches are thick enough to allow them to tie up the horses and they climb off, hanging their hats on nubs on the old tree and looping the bridle reins over a branch so the horses can graze before Bucky takes the saddles off and leaves them propped up against the tree.

Once the horses are sorted out, Steve lies down in the grassy shade of the tree, with Bucky sprawled out on his chest while Steve rubs his back and stares up at the blue sky through the branches of the tree.

Sighing softly against Steve’s chest, Bucky nuzzles his shirt. “I love you, you know that, right?”

Steve smiles. “Course, I do. You know something else I know?”

“What?”

“I know that I love you too.”

Bucky lets out a happy chuckle and shifts against Steve, grabbing his shirt and lying down next to him, pulling Steve to roll on top of him and smiling up at him.

Running his hand through Bucky’s short hair, Steve bends down and kisses him.

Bucky hums happily and kisses him back, gently nipping Steve’s lips and swiping his tongue against them.

Steve chuckles. “You’re being a little naughty, Barnes. Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he mumbles against Bucky’s lips.

Sighing dramatically, Bucky pulls back a bit. “Fine, I’ll behave myself. But only for a few more hours. Once we’re back home, I get to be as naughty as I want.”

Steve laughs and kisses him hard. “Definitely.”

“But until then, there’s no reason we can’t keep kissing.”

Frowning, Steve pretends to think about it. “You know…I think you’re right.”

Laughing, Bucky wraps his hands around Steve’s face and pulls him back down.

* * *

When they get back to the ranch, they get Comet and Daisy untacked and groomed and Steve leaves Bucky to feed the horses while he goes up to their house and gets dinner started.

He has a quick shower and changes into a pair of Bucky’s sweatpants and a big sweater that has the words ‘Cowboy Country’ on it, then it’s time for one of Steve’s favorite activities: starting the fire in Bucky’s stove.

It’s easily his second favorite part of being at the ranch, with the first being getting to spend time with Bucky, of course. The whole process of building the fire is familiar to him; a chance to use skills he’d grown up perfecting. At first, the process had been tinged with sadness because of the lives they’d lost, but once Bucky had pointed out that it’s a skill most city folks these days don’t have, he feels proud of himself. It’s a bit silly because it’s not as if it’s a skill he’d chosen to have; it had been a necessary part of his life for decades. But it’s still a nice way to think about it.

Once the fire’s going, the small log cabin fills with warmth. Poking through Bucky’s cupboards and fridge, he pulls out some things for dinner and starts cooking; Bucky’s wooden cross on the wall keeping a watchful eye on him as he works.

He always laughs at himself when his hands try to find the dials to increase or decrease the heat on the stove and he has to remind himself where he is and that Bucky doesn’t have the same electric stove that Steve has at home. It constantly brings back memories of his ma cooking at a stove very similar to this one, but those thoughts no longer fill him with crushing grief. There’s still sadness, but that’s the way it’ll always be. Steve knows he’s finally accepted what he’s gone through and the fact that he’s using a wood burning stove again is nothing but a nice irony and a chance to relive happy memories.

He remembers the day he’d tried cooking a simple meal from his and Bucky’s childhood and the grief had overwhelmed him and he’d had to call Sam for help because he couldn’t even go out to the kitchen to clean up the mess he’d made. A year later, Steve is happy using a wood burning stove and talking about his ma and other memories, and the grief no longer feels as painful. It’s still there and it’ll probably always be there, but it no longer threatens to crush him.

There’s no doubt that the existence of Bucky Barnes in his life has a lot to do with it, but Steve likes to give himself credit too. Bucky had opened the doors for him and encouraged him to move forward, but it’s Steve who actually walked through those doors.

Grabbing the iron poker rod that he’d been using to adjust the logs in the fire cupboard of the stove, he lifts out the three metal rings in the first element on the stove top, leaving the large hole exposed directly above the fire. Sliding the heavy filled pot over it, he puts the lid on top and leaves the thick stew to start boiling.

Once the stew’s cooked to Steve’s satisfaction, his hands reach over to turn down the temperature dial—and he catches himself again and chuckles. “Jesus, Rogers. You’re really a twenty-first century fella now.”

Sliding the heavy pot over to one of the other elements, Steve uses the iron rod to pull the three rings back over the open hole before taking out just the innermost ring, cutting down the amount of heat that will reach his pot. Once the pot has been pulled back over the small opening, it’s time to set the table.

When dinner’s almost done, Bucky comes in, locking the door, taking off his boots and hanging up his hat next to Steve’s on the hooks by the door. “It smells good, Rogers!”

Steve laughs. “I’m hoping it’ll taste good too.”

“Oh, I ain’t worried about that.”

“Go have a shower and come eat. I’m starving.”

By the time Bucky’s finishes his shower and gotten changed, everything’s on the table and Bucky says grace before they eat dinner, which is followed by large slices of cheesecake and their vanilla milkshakes. As usual, Steve purposefully sips his own milkshake slowly and pretends that he doesn’t want to finish it so he can give the rest to Bucky.

Bucky had tried using the blender at the main house to make his own shakes, but the noise had really bothered him and he’d been upset for hours afterwards. Even though the event itself hadn’t been a big deal, it had been a blow to Bucky’s confidence and so far, he’s refused to discuss making milkshakes some other way or desensitizing himself to the blender.

It’s not something Steve wants to push him about. He doesn’t mind bringing Bucky milkshakes from the diner every weekend and as long as Bucky’s happy, Steve’s happy. If Bucky ever wants to work on the situation, he’ll bring it up. Until then, Steve’s happy to let it go.

Once they’re done eating, they do the dishes together and Steve banks the fire down while Bucky closes the curtains and switches on the lamp standing in the corner of the little home, bathing everything in dim light.

When he’s shut the oven door and washed the soot off his hands, Steve dries his hands and feels Bucky wrapping himself around his back, nuzzling his neck.

“I’m in the mood for some naughty stuff, Rogers. How about you?”

Steve chuckles and rubs Bucky’s arms that are clinging to his chest. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m kinda tired.”

Bucky laughs. “Oh, I think I can keep you awake,” he whispers into Steve’s ear and tugs on his earlobe with his teeth.

It sends a shot of heat through Steve and he moans, digging his fingers into Bucky’s arms. “You wanna test that theory?”

Bucky chuckles, the sound vibrating through them. “You bet I do. But you gotta be naked and on the bed for the testing to start.”

Steve laughs and unwraps Bucky’s arms from around him. Holding Bucky’s hand, he pulls him towards the bed. “Come on, then. Let’s get testing.”

Along the way, they pull each other’s clothes off and they land naked on the bed, Steve sprawled out on top of Bucky’s warm body and rubbing his nose against Bucky’s neck, breathing in the scent of his soap. Groaning, Steve kisses his way down Bucky’s neck and his chest.

Tangling his hand in Steve’s hair with a moan, Bucky presses his chest against Steve’s lips. Knowing exactly what Bucky wants, Steve smiles and wraps his lips around one of Bucky’s nipples, feeling the small bud tighten as he sucks on it.

“Oh, Jesus,” Bucky gasps out, shifting underneath him and slinging his leg across the back of Steve’s.

The shift settles Steve’s stiffening cock against Bucky’s and he lets out a whine, rubbing his cock against Bucky’s as he switches to the other nipple and sucks that one to a stiff peak too. They’re both leaking, smearing streaks of wetness on their bellies and thighs as heat builds between them and arousal tingles through Steve.

Feeling a tug on his hair, Steve releases Bucky’s wet nipple and lets Bucky pull him up to his face and kisses him hard, pressing their warm bodies together. Bucky swipes his tongue against Steve’s lips and Steve eagerly parts them, tangling their tongues together as Bucky pulls his leg higher up, pressing against his ass. Thrusting against Bucky’s cock, Steve presses Bucky into the pillows, kissing him deeply, both of them trembling with arousal.

“Fuck, Rogers, get—get the slick,” Bucky mumbles in between kisses.

It takes tremendous effort to pull away from Bucky, but knowing it’ll be worth it, Steve pushes himself up and hangs himself half off the bed, groping underneath for the box of naughty things Bucky keeps down there. Prying the lid off, Steve rummages through the toys in it until he finds the bottle of slick and a small towel.

“Got it.” Hauling himself back onto the bed, Steve sees Buck has spreads his legs, planting his feet on the bed as he grins at Steve.

“For an old man, you move pretty quick,” Bucky says with a smirk, wiggling.

Laughing, Steve knee-walks closer to Bucky, running his hands up Bucky’s spread thighs as Bucky moans. Opening the bottle of lube, Steve slicks up the fingers of one hand and grabs Bucky’s cock with the other, leaning down to slide the leaking head of Bucky’s cock between his lips.

“Oh, fuck…oh, that feels good,” Bucky groans as Steve rubs his tongue over his leaking slit, loving the taste of Bucky filling his mouth.

Sliding up and down Bucky’s hard length, Steve finds Bucky’s thigh with his other hand, searching for his opening. When he finds it, he rubs his slick fingers over it, feeling it twitch beneath his fingers. Whining happily, Bucky presses against Steve’s fingers as he slides two fingers in, Bucky’s hole easily parting around his fingers.

“Jesus, that feels good. More—I want—gimme more.”

Bucky’s cock is leaking steadily and Steve moans around it, loving the way it stretches his lips as he thrusts his fingers into Bucky’s warmth, opening him up. He could spend all night just doing this, but his own cock is aching and he really wants to get inside Bucky. Pulling off Bucky’s cock, Steve’s breathing hard as he stares at Bucky with his eyes closed and head tilted back, thrusting down against Steve’s fingers.

“Fuck, you look so damn good, Buck,” he gasps out.

Opening his eyes, Bucky smirks at him, eyes dark with arousal. “Get your cock in me and I’ll look even better, I promise.”

Chuckling, Steve pulls his fingers out and slicks up his throbbing cock while Bucky pulls his knees up, his hole twitching.

Pressing his leaking cock against Bucky’s hole, Steve slides in, groaning as tight, moist heat grips his cock. “Oh, fuck…”

Bucky moans. “Damn, that feels good. Get—get all the way in me. I wanna—I wanna feel it.”

Steve slides in until his balls are brushing Bucky’s ass and he braces his hands on either side of Bucky’s head, body trembling from how good he feels. Leaning down, he brushes his nose over Bucky’s face until he finds his lips, brushing kisses over them as he gasps against his lips.

Bucky groans happily and tangles his hands in Steve’s hair, keeping him close as he wraps his legs around Steve’s waist. “Fuck me, come on. Lemme feel it.”

Steve’s hips are already shifting and when he knows Bucky’s okay, he speeds up, thrusting into him hard, making both of them moan and gasp. He’s breathing too hard to kiss Bucky properly but they stayed pressed together, warm breath gusting over each other’s faces as Steve stares down at him, feeling overwhelmed with how much he loves him. “I love you so much,” he gasps out.

Bucky smiles up at him, eyes shining. “I love you too, you know I do,” he whispers.

Hearing those words makes Steve fuck him harder, shaking with arousal and emotion. He still can’t believe he gets to have this. That after everything they’d been through, they get to experience joy like this. And the best part is that they get to have this for the rest of their lives.

Feeling himself getting close, Steve shifts to brace himself on one elbow as he reaches down and finds Bucky’s cock, fisting him in hard strokes. Bucky cries out and his eyes momentarily close as Steve fists his cock, slick and pre-cum making the slide smooth. As Steve watches his face, Bucky opens his eyes and stares up at Steve, his eyes half-lidded. Making a soft sound in his throat, Bucky’s coming, his cock spurting warm cum over Steve’s hand as he keeps fisting his cock. Bucky’s ass clenches around his cock when he comes and Steve groans at the tightness as his hips keep fucking him.

When Bucky’s done, Steve releases his cock and braces himself again as Bucky’s relaxes. “Lemme feel you come,” Bucky mumbles, his eyes shining. “Come on, fill me up.”

Groaning, Steve fucks him hard and it only takes a few more thrusts until he’s coming, filling Bucky up with his cum, making Bucky moan softly. It’s one of the more intense orgasms Steve’s ever had and he can’t stop shaking and thrusting into Bucky until his cock finally tells him he’s had enough. Gently pulling out of Bucky, Steve collapses next to him, breathing hard.

“That was damn good, huh?” Bucky mumbles.

“Uh huh,” Steve gasps out, his heart still racing. “You’re gonna kill me, Barnes.”

Bucky chuckles. “I hope not. I want you around for at least the next hundred years.”

Steve manages a weak smile, his body still working on calming down.

Sitting up with a groan, Bucky reaches for the towel and digs Steve’s hand out from underneath him and wipes it clean, then wipes himself clean too. Throwing the towel away, Bucky gently rolls Steve until he’s lying on his back. Assuming his favorite position, Bucky sprawls out on his chest and Steve wraps his arms around his back as he calms down. Nuzzling Bucky’s hair, Steve squeezes him tight, loving the warmth of Bucky’s body pressed against his. While their long distance sexual adventures are fine, there’s just no replacement for having Bucky with him, not just during sex but afterwards too.

Eventually, Bucky shifts off Steve. “Come on, let’s get some clothes on. I wanna open the curtains and I wanna say my prayers.”

Smiling, Steve sits up and pulls the soft pants and shirts he usually sleeps in from behind one of the pillows and tugs them on. When Bucky’s dressed, he climbs off the bed and pads across the wooden floor to open each of the curtains and turn off the lamp. Steve lies back down, blinking into the near darkness. While Bucky comes back to bed and kneels down to say his prayer, Steve’s eyes get accustomed to the darkness and he stares out of the big window next to the door while Bucky’s quiet words fill their cozy home.

When Bucky’s done, he climbs under the covers and sprawls out on Steve, making himself comfortable while Steve wraps his arms around him and keeps looking outside. It’s still strange not having any other sources of light around. In the city, he’s never in complete darkness. The streetlamps shine throughout the night and the shops in the apartment across from his always keep a few lights on. But once his eyes have time to adjust, he can fully appreciate the one source of light that’s brighter out here than in the city: the night sky.

Bucky sighs softly, rubbing his cheek against Steve’s chest as he stares out the window too. “The stars look real nice tonight, don’t they?”

“Hmm. It’s nice and clear.”

The dark sky outside of the cabin is sprinkled with bright, twinkling stars and Steve can see the edge of the moon behind the big dark barn in the distance. The brightness of the stars is something that had surprised Steve. The other sources of light in the city always dull the effect and it’s not something he’d ever noticed until he’d started coming out to the ranch.

It’s always struck Steve as really poetic that stars have been an on-going source of comfort for both of them. The star song had served such an important role in their childhoods and throughout Bucky’s early recovery. Now, neither of them need the song anymore and instead, they like the comfort of seeing the actual twinkling stars in the night sky, as opposed to just singing about them in a song. It really makes Steve feel like they’ve come a long way.

“Stevie?”

Rubbing Bucky’s back underneath the blanket, Steve nuzzles the top of his head. “Yeah?”

“I’m real glad you found me.”

Steve smiles and tightens his arms around Bucky, his warmth seeping through the shirts between them. “Me too. Neither of us were doing well before I found you.”

Bucky nuzzles Steve’s shirt and Steve knows he’s smiling without having to look at him. “We’re doing real well now, ain’t we? We’re both happy.”

Staring out at the stars twinkling in the black sky, Steve rubs Bucky’s back, feeling at peace. “Yeah, we are.”


End file.
